Series of photos from the author with her daughter Noya

By Goddes Hope Libiran

Dearest Noya,

My sweet child, my heart and light.

I’m writing to you today, Mother’s Day, to celebrate the life that we share and will forever share.

Every day has been a joy for me these past seven years. You’re the first smile I see each morning, even if sometimes I need to give you that gentle nudge to get up from your bed because it’s time to prepare for school.

I’ll never forget your first breath. That moment God gifted me with your life. I was young then, and your gentle cry and fragile body made me so nervous to hold you.

Anak, even before you were born, I already knew you would go places. I knew you would be tough. I knew you would be strong.

Noya as a newborn

I fought for you and you also fought to have me and your dad.  Six. That’s the number of threatened miscarriages we went through. But each time I’d check in on you and the moment Dr. Jenny Idea would use the heartbeat monitor on me, there was always a loud heartbeat of yours to assure me, “Mommy, I’m here.”

My pregnancy was a mix of happiness and anxiety because of these threats. Life before you was work for me. I was already in public service, which demanded a lot of my time, although I was challenged and found it fulfilling.

But all that changed when you were born. It was time to slow down a bit and make time for you and our little family I was blessed with. Motherhood changed everything for me. It also made me more thoughtful about my own mortality because I want to see you through your growing up years, till you become a mother, too.

So my dearest Noya, please pardon Mommy if sometimes I tend to be jumpy when the driver stirs the car a little too fast, or when some vehicle suddenly cuts off our car.

Jilheina Gashanoya. When I speak your name, it’s always music to my ears.

I believe that God whispered your name to me and your Daddy. “Jillian” means youthful. It evokes feelings of creativity and happiness. “Juheina” means free spirit, always seeking change, adventure, excitement. It means power and great humanity.

“Gasha” means “good, brave, noble, moral, fortunate.” It speaks of a “person with good character, brave, noble in spirit.”

And “Noya,” the name we fondly call you means “beauty of God or divine deauty.”

My beautiful Noya, all those names are you. Powerful and meaningful words strung together with love and magically given a pretty face and an active body—who could be a future taekwondo champ, a prized swimmer, or accomplished ballerina! The world is your oyster so dream and put your heart into it.

Noya, Mommy also wants to apologize to you for the times I got so busy with work.

A happy Noya and mommy by the facade of Taal Volcano in Tagaytay

I know you just know that mommy’s work is “to help people.” It’s a job that takes a lot of hours and a lot of places to go to. You might not know it but the times you and Daddy would drop me off at the airport and the times you’d say that you hate airplanes because they take Mommy away from you really make me weepy.

You know I always want to be with you—to play with you, read you books, or even just chill and hang out with you. But Mommy’s work is also tough and you will also know later when you grow up that no one can go through life alone. We need to genuinely care and help others to make this world a better place with less hate but with more love and compassion.

My heart did a blissful flip when your teacher told me that when you grow up, you want to be like Mommy whose work is “helping people.”

You always wish aloud you want me and Daddy to live forever. But once, I needed to tell you “But Mommy and Daddy can’t live forever. We’re just humans. Soon, we’ll be old, weak, and we will die and leave this earth but go to heaven and join Father God."

You’d always turn the other way and cry.

But I’d always tell you, “That’s why you need to learn how to take care of yourself and be independent. I want you to be strong and always kind.”

Noya, remember Mommy’s a secret? I would listen to you praying before bedtime. I thank you for always including Daddy and me in your prayers. I would always hear you say, “Please give Mommy and Daddy a long life,” but I couldn’t hear what you would whisper to God afterward.

When finally I asked you, “Noya, why do you have soft voice after you pray for me and Daddy, which I can’t seem to hear,” your answer made me laugh and cry—“Mommy, but you might be mad at me. I still tell God to please make Mommy and Daddy live forever.”

Noya, my precious, thank you for joining us in this fleeting life journey. You are such a sweet, thoughtful child. Thank you for rubbing Mommy’s tummy when I get stomach pain caused by the anxiety of the outside world's distresses. Your gentle hands are such a comfort.

Thank you for doing well in school. You always make us proud.

Lastly, my pretty and smart daughter Noya, I also want to tell you to take it easy. I know you fret when you don’t get a perfect score in class or when you feel you didn’t do well in a subject. Doing your best is a great thing but even more important is not being too hard on yourself. You are still young and part of life is learning how to deal with mistakes. There will be another chance, another day to do better.

Life is short. I can’t believe you are now seven years old.

Noya, I want you to keep enjoying life and looking at it with so much hope and gratitude. Being in this world is a gift from God. I want you to enjoy your life as a child and enjoy playing with your friends. I want you to remain kind and help other people always.

In this lifetime, it’s not what we do but how we live and touch other people’s lives that matter the most.

Mommy will always be here for you. But I will also make sure you go through life with your wings wide open and that the love we give you to always radiate in you. Noya, you are truly a beautiful gift from God. You will always be my one, my forever reason for being.

Love forever,
Mommy