I can’t stop thinking about her face, the way it glowed every time she walked into a room filled with people. I can’t stop thinking about how people commended her on how gorgeous she looked, even when her dress was less expensive than everyone else’s.
I can’t stop thinking about how rich and satisfied I felt every time mother was around, it was evident by how clean the surroundings were and the aroma of great tasting food coming from the kitchen (I know people would love their mother’s food whether it tastes good or not, but this does not come from that place at all). Her cooking is amazing! Just knowing that mother was around meant that even if there was no money, there would be an abundance of food and happiness (I consider that a miracle even to this day).
I remember how at some point all she did was come home from work and lay down in an attempt to relax (or at least that was what I thought it was). I used to get mad at her and ask her why she was avoiding me, why she wouldn’t play with me. I even had a little journal where I would write about how she didn’t love me anymore and how I was going to plan my escape (yea I admit, I was a little dramatic as a kid). I had no idea that in those moments, mother was battling with headaches, fever, and some other illnesses that she has since overcome (thank God) plus the general stress and tiredness that came from working as hard as she worked. I really love her.
I remember how she would make me dance and sing for her (I was really dramatic) in different accents and styles and it would make her laugh hard, how she made sure that I always looked my best for school, church, or a regular outing even if there clearly was no money to make that happen (she was the God i could see), how she shared her love so equally among myself and my siblings that it was difficult to tell who she loved most. Watching her go out was the worst thing I experienced (I always felt like she was leaving me) and seeing her return from work or travel was all I ever looked forward to. It was all I lived for.
I remember how I didn’t know how to comfort her in those moments where her pain was so intense that it brought tears to her eyes. I only remember putting my tiny hands over her shoulder, hugging her hard and whispering in her ears “You will be fine” (that was all I could afford to say especially as her tears made me cry). And when I grew older and she started to bring up the subject of sex and men, I would be so uncomfortable to the point where I would act like a know-it-all just so she would drop the subject. I knew nothing.
I did not understand why mother would carry her rosary everywhere, why I would meet her praying in her office, singing praises while she worked or even praying late at night after we had concluded the general family prayer. I didn’t understand why she would give herself to the church, working selflessly and helping people who sometimes I felt didn’t deserve her help. I didn’t understand why she never reacted negatively when she was pushed to the wall by people in her life who didn’t appreciate her (and who personally I would have loved to beat the hell out of if I could). I never understood why she was always quick to forgive her transgressors and foster peace wherever she went. Now I do.
I could never repay her for all her kindness (a lifetime would not cover it). Now when I think of love, I think of her. When I imagine selflessness in its pure and undiluted form, images of her beautiful face envelop my mind. And I have made it my responsibility to live my life in the way I know would make her happy, in the way that would make all her efforts find purpose and meaning. I will spend the rest of my life being grateful to her for everything, and making her smile always.
My mother’s smile is after all, one of the wonders of this cold world.
TO DO : Call your mother, and let her know how much you love her!
DAILY MANTRA : I will learn to love others, just like my mother loved me.