So right after my father’s birthday, it was my mother’s birthday on 12th January. It definitely had to be a nice week! Now, I could write about my father, but I am kind of falling short on words to write about my mother. I am not able to get the right words, as if words are actually less to describe what she means to me. She literally is everything to me, my world. I just cannot live without her. I just pray to God that may she be blessed with good health. That’s all that I want.
She thinks that I don’t love her that much or value her. But little does she know what she is to me. I am absolutely nothing without her. I can’t do even one thing properly without her. From a basic thing like finding a top or book to big life decisions, I am incapable of doing anything without her. Like just right now, she isn’t at home tonight and the whole house has come to a standstill. She thinks she is boring, but actually it’s just boring without her. God! I have just written 190 words as of now and I am already feeling short of words. I have so much to tell but I just cannot, as in I am unable to write about her.
Her nature, her cooking, the way she silently cares, the way she looks after the house, the way she puts us in front and takes a back seat for everything, when she has stayed up for me while I used to study, when she used to teach me, when she used to lessen my burden by completing my drawing book, by putting certain restrictions on me when I used to hate them but it is because of that that I am what I am now. Standing strong for everybody even when she was scared herself, supporting my father through thick and thin, getting up early in the morning to wake us up and ensure that we leave for our respective things on time, by calling me just to make sure that I am safe, by covering up my mess so that I don’t get all the scolding, by teaching me everything, by being the best person to hold me when I wake up crying from a terrible nightmare. When any of us is down with even a slight fever she is always ready with her home remedies or leaves work and comes home to be there for us, but when she is down even some severe thing she just won’t go to the doctor and still look after us. She was the first person who encouraged me to write, it is because of her that I write today. She has forgiven me time and again for all my mistakes, for all the pain that I have given her. I don’t know if I will ever be able to pay her back for all these things. But I have a promise to fulfill, of buying a BMW for her and a big house with a nice backyard where she can live her dream of gardening and home grown veggies. She deserves the best after all that she has been through. And I will work hard to give her that.
My mother means A LOT to me! I love her to bits.
Happy Birthday, Mumma!