She carried me in her womb for nine months and even after I never detached. My mother never stopped loving me, it’s surprising how unconditional her love is. I still remember the song she would sing to me when I would refuse to wake up. I don’t think she knows how much I enjoyed listening to her sing in the morning, I would only fake to be asleep so she could continue. My mother cared for my siblings and I all on her own. Some nights I could hear her cries, not that they were ever silent to me. As a child I knew there was nothing I could do to comfort her, her pain was beyond my understanding. All the hard things that she has to go through now will be insignificant and forgotten, that I can promise. She put everything behind her so we would never have to experience this harsh life.
My mother teaches me valuable lessons that can’t be learned from school, she entwines her knowledge so she can give it all to me. Her presence is prominent; I rarely imagine what it’s like without her. I have known her for fourteen years yet there is still so much I don’t know about her. Her past is never one of our many discussions but my curiosity only exceeds. She’s helped me with so much but I don’t think I can say the same. She never forgets to show her love through everything that she does. She pushes me through all of my problems just like how she used to push me on the swings. I was afraid of not amounting to her expectations but she tell’s me that she couldn’t be more proud.
She works all day and hides the bags under her eyes but I know that she is tired. All that I can tell her is to have patience. I want to give my mother everything that she has wanted to give me. I know that she wanted to give my grandmother the world and I want to do the same. I look back only to see that I would be frustrated for silly things, things that weren’t even problems. It’s true, she did know what was best and I was just ignorant. I haven’t changed only my excuses have. Regardless of our little disagreements she is the only person I can rely on.
She tells me how I brought good things into her life and I was a blessing to her. My mother taught me to love but she also taught me when to stop loving. I'm grateful for that. I used to believe she loved my brother more than she loved me. He’s smart and he never got into trouble but she never compared us the way other parents do to their children. We weren’t raised like others. She told us to appreciate the things that we had and to give when we had more than what we needed. She opened my eyes to see the real world so it doesn’t affect me later on.
The skills she has given to me has exceeded cooking and little things. Just by watching how she handles situations.