This post pays tribute to a special group of women out there, moms. In particular, mine.
When I was young, I could not wait for my birthday. I would be one year older, and one year closer to being the same age as my mother. It never crossed my mind my mother was also getting older: she was timeless, ageless, and invincible. If I was being picked on in school, I could always rely on the line, “I’ll tell my mom!” As kids, we learned quickly of the mother network, as well as to fear the wrath of our mothers’ at certain times. Who hasn’t feared the wrath of your angry mother?
My mother received advice many years ago: with all the different pieces of advice of motherhood (all of them with the best intentions), only the mother will be able to know the personality of the child and know what is best for him/her. She understood me perfectly, understood when it wasn’t necessary to push me (I did not learn to use chopsticks until I was 15), but never failed to bring out the ire in the key moments (you better do you darn best in school!) In my teenage years when I was constantly hearing stories of fellow classmates begging their mom’s to let them dye their hair and pierce various body parts, my mother approached me and asked if I wanted to get highlights and my ears pierced. I was the one that said no. She understood perfectly I often approached life in my agonizingly slow pace, that I am often stubborn, moody, and just plain weird. She understands, she accepts, but she’ll never stop encouraging me to improve myself.
Seeing the type of woman my mother is, has made me both fear and anticipate my own future potential family. I’ll fear having kids because I’ll constantly be asking myself if I’ll ever be half as good of a mom as she is. On the flipside I’ll want to be one because I’ll have a great example to follow. My mother reassures me I will be able to push past my own fears when I become a mother: when your little one is running to you crying cause there is a spider in the corner of their room, you can’t let your own phobias get in the way.
Happy Mother’s Day to all the wonderful mothers out there, but especially to mine. To the lady that taught me one of the best forms of humour is to be able to laugh at myself. To the lady that helped teach me how to drive a car, and infamously yelled at me more than once to “speed up!” (versus slow down). To the lady who has promised to spoil her grandchildren rotten, and I know she will refuse to tell me just how many chocolate chip cookies (over and above the limit) she has let my children eat today.
Happy Mother’s Day.