Her voice was like a fresh breeze on a lousy summer afternoon. Her touch was like a warm embrace on a cold winter night. She was a perfect combination of intricacy and dauntlessness. Fearless and delicate both at the same time. She was my mother, my saviour, my dearest friend.
As a child, both, my mom and dad were synonymous to superheroes for me. Somehow they always knew exactly what and when I was looking for and made sure I got it. I worshipped them and my entire world revolved around them.
Then I grew up but my mom didn’t. She still cared and looked after me like I was a little kid. She still thought she could make decisions for me. Soon the title of my superhero was transferred to my friends from my parents because now they knew exactly what I was or wanted to be. Nobody but them could understand me. Oh wait! Then I fell in love.
My friends didn’t think he was good enough for me. They looked ignorant to me. What did they know about love? My love, my boyfriend, my superhero. He was the best. He was my soulmate! And then, he thought my career plans were too self-centric and there was no space for him in it. He was no more the person I fell in love with. God! I needed my mom.
She was there standing by me all the time, if only I could have looked!
I remember complaining about how open and unreserved some of my friends’ mothers were, often forgetting to realise I too was at fault for not being able to open up to her. Building trusts and relationships is a two-way process; something that my mom taught me. And it was my failure for not being able to incorporate the same with her or anybody for that matter.
She was a blessing that I misunderstood for an affliction. And I was a failure in all her teachings.
I am who I am because of all what my mom did for me, to me, that she thought I deserve to be and I am worth of. And I only couldn’t understand her worth for when the time was on my hands.
Resigning myself from the pleasantly beautiful memories painted with my mother back into the present, I beam a culpable smile at a picture of hers on my bedside and wish her a very happy mother’s day!
Like always, despite all my absurdity, rudeness, and insensitivity she smiles back at me. The only thing different about today is I don’t get an “I Love You beta” in return. And the regret, well I don’t think it is going to fade anytime soon.
If only I could be that friend to her she was always to me. If only I could once again lie down on her lap and forget all about that bothers me. If only I could be a bit better daughter to her for she was always the best to me.
Needless to say, Mothers are the sweetest and the greatest creation of God. A creation we often don’t realise enough. A creation we time and again neglect and hurt for our personal gains. Give a thought for Old Age Homes. Have you ever thought why they exist in this so called wonderful world if we really cared so much?
Don’t make this story your story. Because she is much more than just another status update.
And so today, on this mother’s day, let’s give a commitment to our own lives that not to take her for granted anymore, to be there for her a little more, and to try and understand her much more.
Because she is your mother, your ultimate saviour, and your truest friend. Don’t make your mind for her, take your heart for her!
Celebrate Mother’s day dropping every smile you can ever bring on her face.
Crafted with brevity for select stories to make certain you see what others don't; sent every Friday
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