Why Jay?

My mother called me after she got the non-medical grade fabric face masks I sent her in California. I also reminded her not to go grocery shopping, and to have someone do it for her, and so many more reminders.

And then, out of the blue, she asked me why I chose Jay. She asked me that question maybe because the mister and I would be celebrating our 25th wedding anniversary on the same date today, in March.

Her marriage with my father didn't work. From the outside looking in, it looked like it was a struggle to keep it afloat in the close to 30  years they were together. But most of those years, they spent them apart from each other. 

I really think that among her 4 children, that question was only thrown at me. 

"He didn't grab my things, or even offered to carry them for me one time he picked me up from my last class for the day (circa 1990, 2nd year in college). He didn't see me as helpless."

It was simple as that. 

I liked it that  he saw me as strong, and not as some damsel in pretend-distress.

He was  just different, unlike some guys that showed some interest in me.  

That gesture wouldn't make my heart pitter patter like in movies. I hated it. In fact, I'd get annoyed, and felt like I would want to puke. 

Such a major turn off.

Did I look helpless that they needed to carry my things? 

I didn't even like a guy who'd carry my purse even when I would need to go in the ladies room. 

And on top of him not treating me helpless, he didn't leave me even if I showed him my worst behavior, and most of those times they were unreasonable. 

The first time my father met him as my boyfriend, he got so worried. He was worried, not for me but for Jay.

It wasn't a secret in the family, in our neighborhood, and our entire clan that I had anger issues---that I was maldita kaayo (extremely mean). 

In a group of mean girls, I'd be the leader, except that I didn't think I was a bully. I fought bullies, but I always worked alone.

I didn't know how to express and communicate my feelings and my thoughts, but I could express them through anger and tantrums in words meant to kill spirits, and in evil looks and glances.

I didn't have close friends except for my siblings. 

But Jay treated me differently.  He treated me as his best friend.

When we were about at our 2nd decade of marriage, I really didn't put them into words all these years until my daughter asked him who's his best friend. 

"Your mama." he answered her proudly.

One time at a party, I couldn't find Jay, so I asked a friend Alan (RIP Alan) who I met at the stairs on his way up if the mister was downstairs. Then he yelled down and said, "Jay, gipangita ka sa imong kumander in chip!" (Jay, your commander in chief is looking for you.)

Was that a joke? 

I wasn't laughing. 

I also don't like when Filipino wives refers their husbands as their eldest son.

Come on! That's disrespectful to your mother-in-law. And even if it's a joke, it's still not funny. 

The mister treated me as his partner---with equal footing.

I am not Jay's commander. I am his partner.

He is not my eldest son. He is my partner. 

We are each others best friend. We are each others puzzle piece.

Those are some reasons why I chose him.