My mother, Potenciana Perez Lachica Fermo, was born in the Filipino province of Nueva Ecija, on April 15, 1946. I think so, anyway. That’s what her father told me, but he wasn’t even there. You see, she was born in a mountain cave, where her family had been living ever since fleeing from the Japanese forces which had occupied their town, so the location isn’t so precise. And the date isn’t so precise either, because her birth certificate says April 8, but my grandfather claims that the uncle who went into town to report her birth was off by a week. Given these circumstances, I imagine the mother of my mother holding that newborn baby in her arms, wondering where destiny would take her. Who would’ve guessed that she’d graduate college, find a job in New York City, and ultimately marry, bear two children, and live out her life on the other side of the world from that mountain cave?
Anyone who knows my mom knows she was a devout woman of faith. I want to share a little anecdote that might shine some light on this. I remember visiting a Marian shrine in the Philippines, Our Lady of Manaoag. A well was dug at the site of the Marian apparition: the Virgin’s Well. Now we only drank bottled water in the Philippines, for our own safety, and after finishing one such bottle, my mom decided to store some of the holy water from the Virgin’s Well in that bottle to bring it home. She likes to keep holy water around for when you get sick, or for blessing newly bought articles of clothing, or just to randomly sprinkle around the house. For her, every act, no matter how simple, was an occasion to beg for God’s mercy. But not more than an hour after filling up the bottle at the Virgin’s Well, she naturally got thirsty walking beneath that tropical sun, and thinking that the bottle of water was in fact bottled water, she drank it. All of it. Yes, she got sick, but at least she was VERY holy.
Given my mother’s religious devotion, you might think it a consolation to know that she’s now in heaven. But I don’t want to lie to you by suggesting that her being in heaven takes away the sadness. It’s a great sadness to me that she’s gone. I don’t need a spiritual connection, I need her presence. In fact, I think she would say that the Word became flesh and dwelt among us for this very reason. Christ gave us the Church for this very reason, because what we need is a presence.
This is why I want to thank all of you here present who have shown such great love and affection for my mother and for our family. Over the course of the last month, we’ve received such a beautiful response from family and friends here in Florida, across the country, back home in the Philippines, and around the world. Most of those family and friends could not be here today, but they offered their love and support and prayers from a distance. Each time, I assured them that their prayers were the truest expression of their presence with our family. They didn’t need to buy a plane ticket to be present with us. Their prayers were enough.
But as I was telling people this, I asked myself, “Is this really true? Do I honestly believe this? Or is this just some pious thing I say to help ourselves feel better?” Because if it’s true, if prayer is the truest expression of presence, then nobody in this church is more present than my mother, who is praying for us at this very moment. The how of her presence among us remains a mystery to me, but it’s a Mystery by which my mother lived, and it’s a Mystery in which I wish to follow her.
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| Potenciana Perez Lachica as a young girl. |
