By: Shaun Mustang Jacinto
Graphics: Caitlin Beatrice Mutas

The Yuletide season in the Philippines begins as soon as the “ber months” arrive on our already marked calendars. Festive decorations start to grace the streets, houses, shopping malls, and the musically immortalized lyrics of José Mari Chan, “Whenever I see girls and boys selling lanterns on the street,” echoing everywhere. It would be an understatement to say that Christmas is a long-awaited holiday. For many, this season is characterized by family get-togethers, school or work Christmas parties, the devotional Simbang Gabi, and the simmering of bibingka and puto bumbong. All these joyful festivities are so deeply etched in our culture that it’s nearly impossible to separate Christmas from the Filipino spirit, no matter where they may be.

Yet, for an Overseas Filipino Worker (OFW) separated from their loved ones, the so-called ‘most wonderful time of the year’ has a bittersweet weight, as connections are tempered by the distance that remains.

Hence, to deviate from my usual columns, I dedicate this to my mother, who is part of the group of unsung heroes—the OFWs. They sacrifice way more than just their presence, often missing important milestones and events in their families’ lives to provide a better future for their loved ones.

Christmas, for me, has always been a Russian roulette, wondering whether or not my mother could go home. For most part of my life, to be precise, almost 13 years already, she had been working abroad; the holidays were never quite the same. In some years, while the world around me was abuzzed with the excitement of sharing meals and presents, there was always an empty seat at the dining table that no amount of video calls or chats could mend.

Her absence remains a constant reminder of the steep price we pay for the opportunities her sacrifices brought. An excruciating tradeoff that is only tainted by our distance apart.

Albeit the early days that we were separated due to her being an OFW, those Skype or FaceTime calls were filled with her words of love and encouragement. As technology improved, of course, so did the modes of communication, which became our lifeline during special events like the holidays or even Mother’s Day. As a child of an OFW, you will never forget the fleeting moments where you gather your family around a small screen, an attempt to duplicate the warmth of a family celebration wherein you are all complete. My mother smiling through a pixelated video would ask about my day in school, laugh at my stories, and remind me of her care in spite of being hundreds of miles away.

For transnational families like ours, Christmas is all about holding on to the bonds that matter. It was about me wearing my “big boy pants” and wearing rose-tinted glasses to find joy in the little things my mom did, like a simple video call or the well-known Balikbayan boxes. Little moments like these during this season of togetherness and family can sustain one’s drive to continue working overseas for their loved ones.

Our modern world demands sacrifices, with OFWs trading time with their families and loved ones to provide from afar. Each of these transnational families cope with their absence. Every shared moment, whether in person or through virtually, embodies the true Christmas spirit of enduring love and connection alive across any barriers.

Until then, I carry my mother’s love, knowing that no distance can dim the light of the Yuletide season. Come Christmas day, let’s honor the sacrifices made by those away from home and strengthen their love burning ever brightly in our spirits and hearts.