Mother's Day

Where to start?

Honestly, I have been planning on writing a piece about mothers for a long time now and I was hoping that I would be able to post one before last Sunday but as I stared at a blank Word document and continuously erased and rewrote what came to my mind, I realized that Mother’s Day has come and gone and I wasn’t nowhere near finished.

Why? You ask.

Because unlike any other topic that I write about, I wanted this piece about mothers to be perfect. I want it to convey the emotions I feel about my mother and about mothers in general. For mothers are the single greatest thing that ever happened to us; men in particular. They are the single greatest driving force that molded us into who we are now. That’s why even in marriage, we cannot help but coddle our mothers. They mean so much; that we are nothing if they aren’t there.

A mother’s love is unfathomable as it is unexplainable. A man can become the baddest ass in the world and his mother would still love him. A mother can spank/hurt a child or a grown man out of love. Even hatred in the rare circumstances it is dispensed; is tinged with unconditional love. That’s how amazing and terrible a mother’s love is. It is greater than romance, greater than any other kind of love. It moves heaven and earth.

I wish I could find the words to express how much I appreciate mothers. I wish I could create a majestic piece that would extoll all of their virtues. I wish I could paint, in words, their sacrifices, their pain, their joys, their tears and everything else that defines them… but I couldn’t. My mind is filled with images and ideas but when I attempt to put them in paper, I am overwhelmed and I feel that the words that come out cannot ever do them justice.

…

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So I can only do this:

Ma, thank you for all you’ve done for me. 

Thank you for sacrificing your dreams to give me a chance to achieve mine. 

Thank you for all the efforts you’ve made to make sure I lived well. 

Thank you for spanking me when I did something wrong. 

Thank you for giving me books. 

Thank you for giving me the freedom to find my own path in the world. 

Thank you for knowing to be silent when the moment required it. 

Thank you for not giving me immeasurable goals or pinning your dreams on me. 

Thank you for believing in me. 

Thank you for never imposing your will on mine. 

Thank you for caring. 

Thank you for everything…

I may never be able to tell you directly that I love you. I mean, I want to... but the cultural imperative of our upbringing requires men to express this emotion nonverbally. I know you know that I love you but I would like to tell you that someday.

I owe you my life... who I am today.

Whatever they say, I am the living testament of who you are and I hope that I live my life well enough that someday they will say that ‘you are a great mother and woman to have born such a child’. That is my hope and my answer to all the things you’ve done for me. I hope I've made you proud.

I’m sorry too, for all my shortcomings. I know you’ve never voiced them but I know that there were times I could’ve done better. Thank you for not berating me, for silently supporting me instead. I thank you for that.

I’m sorry for not being the marrying kind. I know you want to see me settle down and have a family to call my own even when you do not voice it out but I am afraid that it is a farfetched notion. I might have kids someday or maybe a family, but that is still in the uncertain future. It is not your fault, and it never was. It’s just who I am. My sister has given you a grandkid and she and my brother will probably give you more which I hope will fill up that void I could not fulfill. 

Don’t worry about us, Ma. We did great. You did great. No one will ever say that you are a bad mother and I think that it is the greatest accolade anyone can give that you did great. And no matter what the future brings, or what tribulations come, we will always be there for you as you have been there for us.

We love you Ma…