How much patience can a person hold? How much anger can a person encapsulate in one’s heart? I’ve never quite known someone like her. She’s understanding. She has the patience and tolerance of a saint. It’s wonderful to see such an ordinary human being with such virtues, especially when that person is your mother.
I never write much about my mother. I know I love her. I just find it hard to express that love and show it to her sometimes. I know that she knows. She always knows best. She always know what to think and what to do, in happy times, in tough time, in whatever time fate gives her to face. The more I grow up, the more I understand but I always know I’ll never understand enough. What do I know about my mother? A lot? I can say so. But I never really get close, real close to her thoughts, to her mind, to the woman inside of her. I receive her love naturally. I always take it for granted, like a second nature, like it’s the way things are, the way they are supposed to be.
She was once a woman with dreams. She was young once. She fell in love, with man, who is my father. She never pursued a career. She had 2 kids with the man she loves and married to. She’s always been so dedicated to the role of a mother. She took care of us, gave us the best of her, the best that she could or could afford to give. She took care of my sister/cousin as one of her own. I know there were times she was desperate, she was down, she was calling for help in silence. I never quite know where she got the strength from, to carry on, to keep going, doing what she decided to spend her life to do. She lives her life for us, always for us. We never quite comprehend what she’s been through. We’ll never know all the stories, about the tears she cried, the sleepless nights she spent to think, to talk to her inner self, to question life, to consider if everything she’d done was worth the effort. Or has she ever questioned it? The purpose of her life – us, her children.
I don’t even know if she’s still in love with my father. I know they were so deeply in love once, when they were a lot younger, when they loved each other and decided to get married and became a family. They are not the way they used to be. Of course, they’re getting old, they’re gonna be 50 soon. They’are no longer the love birds they were more than 30 years ago. She’s been enduring his short temper, his impulsivity, his aggression, many other things from him that I know I would never accept as a wife. Then she’s still there, together with the man she chose, never said she regretted what she’s chosen. I don’t think I’m able to handle what she’s been through, with all the stress and pressure from life, from her marriage, from having to raise us kids, from all the awful things that came her way. Now, as we’re all grown up, she’s alone, getting old, living far away from her kids. Am I feeling sorry for her? I don’t know. I just feel melanchony, sad and helpless. I don’t know what I can do for her, to make her feel a little more happy. I’m not happy myself, and I don’t know how to make my own mother happy.
I had a quick weep just before, thinking about what she told me when I told her I might not get married. My father never knows what he’s talking about, most of the time. I decide not to talk to him or listen much because he just never understands or he simply just doesn’t know the right thing to say. Perhaps he never means to become a bad parent. He just happened to become one. I don’t blame him. He didn’t get the right parenting himself. It’s just sad because then my mother has to become both parents. She has to be soft and caring and at the same time being strong and supportive, teaching us the right things to do in life, as what fathers would do. I don’t know what I’ll do or what I’ll be once she’s gone. Will I weep? I think I will. I’ll just never be able to tell her everything, all the love, the anger, the thoughts I’ve been keeping in my heart, all the questions of why she sacrificed her life for us, of why she kept putting up with a man who did not pay attention about her feelings and what she’s been through on her own while he was supposed to be there when she was hurt. I’ll never know and understand. I just can’t.
I adore the way she loves though. Will I ever love someone that much in my life? I’m a lot more selfish than she is. I’m some sort of a perfectionist who expects the world to be whole and perfect. I’m not easily amused or satisfied. I have much love in my heart, yet I don’t love so easily. I have “daddy issues”. I made bad choices of men in my life. I always feel insecure about choosing a partner because I was so obsessed and somehow terrified of what my mother’s been through in her marriage. There are so many “what if” questions I’ll never be able to answer. What if I stayed and got married to the man I loved at 19 yo? What if I did not break up with my high school sweetheart and just waited for him to grow up and catch up with me? My life is what it is. There’s no point of looking back and revise things that already happened and wish that they somehow had happened differently.
My mother. That incredible woman. She’s done everything she could for us. It’s my turn to do everything I could for her, to make her truly happy, even for once in her life. I have to live well to deserve her love. Whatever tomorrow will be, I always know I’m so blessed to have such a great mother, to grow up in her arms, to receive her unconditional love. I thank God. I’m grateful for having such an incredibly amazing person in my life, by my side.
I love you. I pray God to bless you and give you happiness and peace of mind. I love you.