>I would like to praise “someone” in my world, my mother. Yes, my mother, for all the strength that she has to keep the family together. For everything that she had to go through, feeling and sharing the suffering and joys of her children. For all the lies that she said, crediting works to others to maintain harmony in the family, for the unconditional love that she bestowed on us.She is a darling — how she calls one child and ends up calling all her children because she does not know who she really wants. How she does not know anybody’s birthday.
She learned how to cook when she was already a wife and a mother but she is already ready to criticize my cooking. How she claims she doesn’t know how to operate any household appliance, I think she just wants the attention. How she is supportive of our choices. How the best china are kept on display and neveer been used.
She showed me colors, how things should match and blend. She made me wear red outfits most of the time time wen when everybody was wearing pastel. A bonnet here, a fishent there, how we argue why I shouldn’t wear, or the short haircut that she would make the haristylist or is it the barber, then I would pray for the miracle of a longer hair.. Oh, mother…
But most of all, she gave me or showed me confidence, that of being one’s own and the knowledge that if I fall she will be there to hold my hand and blow the pain away. She doesn’t know how we all feel. We don’t express ourselves emotionally, but I sometimes sense from her that she does not not that feeling of unimportance because everybody’s grown and have lives of our own.