Mama
The driving force in my life. The strongest person on earth. My mom. Yet, I never wrote anything on her, so I thought, I wrote a little something for her tonight.
I have a quite strange relationship with my mom. Or is it normal? I don't know. But, we can't seem to stand each other during those happy and normal times, when it comes to difficult times, we both will run to each other for support.
Sometimes, it's just so hard to talk to her, but when needed, she could be the one person that could make me feel better, even, about my worst situation.
I remember those times when I was in junior high and she would cry in front of me over things that I didn't even understand back then. I didn't know what I did, I just listened to her and comforted her, and I guess it's working because every time she's in one of those conditions, she would call on me and cry.
I also remember days when it seemed I didn't have the energy to live or even worst, I felt like killing myself, she would be there to hold my hands and made sure that everything would be alright because as if she would take away my problems and deal with it for me.
One time in college, I was feeling so insecure about myself because my friends were just bunch of creeps (hahaha.. sorry guys! but you were terrible those days.. even though, I turned into one of you now.. :D) who like to call on names. I was so frustrated and depressed those days that, believe it or not, I almost put myself in the middle of bypass road so that something would hit me and just kill me. During those times, never did I ever imagine that I would talk about it to my mom, but then I had to drive to the airport to pick up my dad (then, still alive and just on the move :( ), so we chatted and we got to the part where I started telling my whole depressed stories.
She listened. And held my hands. I didn't remember much what she did, but she made me feel better and got me off those bad thoughts about killing myself.
Or at one time, when I lost then-the-love-of-my-life because he chose to marry someone else. I remembered carrying the invitation to her (because it was addressed to her) and feeling so blue. I didn't say much since she knew the whole story, and she didn't say much since she knew anything wouldn't work that time. So, she just held me and let me cry.
That week, she came with me to the wedding, and the whole trip to the wedding reception from Bekasi to Gading, I remember how she talked and talked and talked and talked so I wouldn't just stare at the window and cried my heart-out. And after the thing, when I arrived home, she just treated me like a princess, understood my broken heart, made sure that one of my sisters was with me to keep me laughing (boy, I came from a family that are just comedians..), and at the end of the day, held me and said, you'd find someone better than him.
I believed her. And it made me feel better. Alive and excited in the search of prince charming again.
Or like today. I was just out of life. I didn’t have the energy for anything, even if I did, I didn’t feel like living at all. All I wanted to do was curl on my bed and cry. I wanted to cry to her because I knew she would be the only person who would make me feel better, but I wasn’t sure what to tell her.
(I guess I just forgot that I didn’t have to tell her anything because she doesn’t need to know what it is that makes me sad, she only needs to know that I am not happy.)
What she did, she convinced me to buy her dinner so that I would get off from my bed, that’s when the flood came out. She’d then hold me. Hugged me. And told me that I will always have her. I cried. We went out. Dined. Talked. Shopped (she did!). Laughed. Laughed. Laughed. Held me the whole time we were in the car. Laughed again. She rambled. Rambled. Rambled from one end to another.
And voila! It seemed that half of my burden is gone already. At least, I didn’t feel like crying anymore.
That’s when I realized again, that my mom is my rock (she is actually every one’s rock).
She’s the one that will always have those wide shoulders where I can cry.
She’s the one whose hands are so warm and comforting.
She’s the one who has the strength guard us.
She’s the one that Allah SWT sent us (not only me in my family) to be our angel.
She is an angel. My angel.
Ma, words wouldn’t be enough to describe how much you meant to me. I love you.
I wish I could be at least half the kind of mother you are to my children.
I have a quite strange relationship with my mom. Or is it normal? I don't know. But, we can't seem to stand each other during those happy and normal times, when it comes to difficult times, we both will run to each other for support.
Sometimes, it's just so hard to talk to her, but when needed, she could be the one person that could make me feel better, even, about my worst situation.
I remember those times when I was in junior high and she would cry in front of me over things that I didn't even understand back then. I didn't know what I did, I just listened to her and comforted her, and I guess it's working because every time she's in one of those conditions, she would call on me and cry.
I also remember days when it seemed I didn't have the energy to live or even worst, I felt like killing myself, she would be there to hold my hands and made sure that everything would be alright because as if she would take away my problems and deal with it for me.
One time in college, I was feeling so insecure about myself because my friends were just bunch of creeps (hahaha.. sorry guys! but you were terrible those days.. even though, I turned into one of you now.. :D) who like to call on names. I was so frustrated and depressed those days that, believe it or not, I almost put myself in the middle of bypass road so that something would hit me and just kill me. During those times, never did I ever imagine that I would talk about it to my mom, but then I had to drive to the airport to pick up my dad (then, still alive and just on the move :( ), so we chatted and we got to the part where I started telling my whole depressed stories.
She listened. And held my hands. I didn't remember much what she did, but she made me feel better and got me off those bad thoughts about killing myself.
Or at one time, when I lost then-the-love-of-my-life because he chose to marry someone else. I remembered carrying the invitation to her (because it was addressed to her) and feeling so blue. I didn't say much since she knew the whole story, and she didn't say much since she knew anything wouldn't work that time. So, she just held me and let me cry.
That week, she came with me to the wedding, and the whole trip to the wedding reception from Bekasi to Gading, I remember how she talked and talked and talked and talked so I wouldn't just stare at the window and cried my heart-out. And after the thing, when I arrived home, she just treated me like a princess, understood my broken heart, made sure that one of my sisters was with me to keep me laughing (boy, I came from a family that are just comedians..), and at the end of the day, held me and said, you'd find someone better than him.
I believed her. And it made me feel better. Alive and excited in the search of prince charming again.
Or like today. I was just out of life. I didn’t have the energy for anything, even if I did, I didn’t feel like living at all. All I wanted to do was curl on my bed and cry. I wanted to cry to her because I knew she would be the only person who would make me feel better, but I wasn’t sure what to tell her.
(I guess I just forgot that I didn’t have to tell her anything because she doesn’t need to know what it is that makes me sad, she only needs to know that I am not happy.)
What she did, she convinced me to buy her dinner so that I would get off from my bed, that’s when the flood came out. She’d then hold me. Hugged me. And told me that I will always have her. I cried. We went out. Dined. Talked. Shopped (she did!). Laughed. Laughed. Laughed. Held me the whole time we were in the car. Laughed again. She rambled. Rambled. Rambled from one end to another.
And voila! It seemed that half of my burden is gone already. At least, I didn’t feel like crying anymore.
That’s when I realized again, that my mom is my rock (she is actually every one’s rock).
She’s the one that will always have those wide shoulders where I can cry.
She’s the one whose hands are so warm and comforting.
She’s the one who has the strength guard us.
She’s the one that Allah SWT sent us (not only me in my family) to be our angel.
She is an angel. My angel.
Ma, words wouldn’t be enough to describe how much you meant to me. I love you.
I wish I could be at least half the kind of mother you are to my children.
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