This is touching letter one of my good friend has written about her mother from UK where she is put up for last one year for professional course:
Lately I have been missing home a lot. Especially my mother and her food. I've also been missing her when I get stuck at writing and when the reading makes no sense. I have felt a deep sense of longing for her when things don't go my way, especially when I am down and feel like crying, I long for her protective embrace.
At 35, I thought I was adept to handle my emotions and my life. I thought I had wisened enough to run and control my life - on my terms. My independent streak propelled me to greater heights, to newer exciting experiences. However, the dizzying experiences have made me miss my loved ones more than ever. Every beautiful place I have been, the mountains I've climbed, the time I have spent in gardens in the company of colourful flowers, the fields filled with dandelions in the countryside, the daises and bluebells, buttercups too, growing profusely over any greenpatches they could find.... all this nature around me...I've spent time 'alone' with it, I was joyous, but I wanted my loved ones to experience the happiness too.
When I think about it...at the end of the day, all I wanted was to spend time with my loved ones, my family, nothing else really mattered. Moments become special when they are shared.
I have developed a huge respect and a sense of awe towards my parents. They have always been the superheroes, protecting their children from pain or any ill, serving them in illness and bringing them up in good health. I have selfishly eaten the last piece of delicacy, sweet or a luscious fruit in the house knowing little that it was my mum's share. I've never really heard her complaint. The complainee has always been me...
It has always been easy for me to vent the frustrations of the world towards her, and be the one that knows more, with logic and understanding. I never realised my mum could be vulnerable too, insecure in her ways. I always thought if she can run a home and a family she is smart enough to live through anything. If at 35 I can still feel child like and would want to crawl under her quilt while she sleeps.....long for her strength and the warmth she so protectively passes over me when I need it the most... I wonder then....would it be the same for her...to long for strength from her long dead parents...and then maybe turn to her children for the same warmth she so unconditionally gave us.
I have seen her shifting from independence to dependence now. I probably understand her better, her struggles, her vulnerability to the obstacles in life and the sheer strength to act as if all has been taken care of.
I feel a deep sense of respect and gratitude for her...I may never be fully able to match her unconditional love....but I've understood her struggles from my own struggles...and I long to be with her again...in her protective embrace....
Love you mummy and miss you most...
:) Shirin
Your mother is lucky to have a daughter like you,God bless you both....Sailesh
1 comment:
Adults are merely children of larger growth.
They long for the security, the safety net parents provide.
And the forgiving and unconditional love.
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