Wednesday, May 9, 2012

The Card

For some reason, human beings seem to have a difficult time letting their guard down and expressing their true feelings, as if it’s a sign of weakness and not strength. It seems that we are born with this skill, but lose it as we grow up. I certainly did. It has been so long, that I don’t really remember the last time I looked into my loved ones’ eyes and expressed my most genuine feelings. Do you?


Last night I opened my old Chanel shoebox where I keep my favorite family photographs and handmade cards I’ve received from my boys. The time I spend going through the memory lane of our lives is one of the most treasured times to me. I have to say that the awkward drawings on the cards and misspelled words of love are the most beautiful and meaningful to me. I thought of how uncomplicated our feelings for moms are when we are very young. All we want at that age is to be with mom, she is our world. But as we become teenagers, everything changes, and moms become uncool and we want to become nothing like mom, we argue. And as adults we are simply too busy to think or talk about our feelings all together. 


So I started thinking of my relationship with my mom as a daughter. And it looks like I was a pretty typical daughter and went through all these stages. Now, as an adult, I hang out with mom and talk to mom all the time, we kiss hellos and kiss goodbyes, but I don’t really remember telling her how much she means to me now and always. This is odd, being a mom myself, I know how difficult being a mom is. But I also know that mom doesn’t wait for me to tell her anything: her love for her children is so deep and so unconditional, that she does not even realize she should be thanked to. But she should.

So who is mom? In a nutshell, my mom is like every mom. Just like us, my mom was a little girl once. She was growing up to become someone who matter, to add her imprint into this world. She was working hard during the day and hanging out with her friends at night. Then she met my dad, and they fell in love. They got married and could not wait to have children. My mom carried her two daughters in her body for nine months, trying to care for her body to provide us with the best first home she could. And from the moment we were welcomed into this world, mom never stopped thinking of us and never stopped living her life through a prism of how-it-would-affect-her-children… ever.

Does this sound familiar to any moms out there?


To me, my mom is a hero. She gave me the gift of life. She fed me, educated me, and showed the world to me. She stayed up on nights when I was sick, she cheered me up when I was broken-hearted. She taught me to be generous and compassionate simply by setting an example. And then, she bravely left everything she built behind, and brought me to America to give me the gift of freedom…

I know that for everything she has done for me, I owe her nothing but love. And as I live my life, I care for my children, hopefully, up to her standards, and I expect from them also nothing but love.
So cheers to mom!

What’s your mother’s story?

With love always,
Zuma A.

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