Remembering My Mother

Losing someone is always a great ordeal. I lost my mother two years ago. We had lost her to Alzheimer way longer than that; the disease took her away from us, replacing her with someone we barely recognized. The pain (of losing) just doesn't go away, does it? It stays with you at all times, it becomes a part of you. It feels like walking with a wounded heart that's never going to heal. Hurting you the most at your vulnerable moments.  

Ironically, she never left me. Her death brings me so much closer to her. She's not here anymore but she's always with me, offering me advise every step of my way. Her words come to me when I needed them the most. She's always here with me and I miss her a lot. 

My mother was a strong woman but a naive one, but she fought through her life til the end. She was a great mother through and through. Why didn't I see it when she's around? How could I search for perfection in an imperfect setting to begin with and didn't realize that she's my only perfection in my life? She stuck by us through thick and thin, without having enough means to get her by. We only know how to dwell on something we didn't have when in fact it was really difficult to even have the things we had. She never quit on us like we did her. What had she asked of us that were so burdensome? Why couldn't I be a good daughter to her at the right time?

Every time she cut an apple, she would ask us to have some first before she put any bite in her mouth. She didn't have many apples to share yet she showed the best of her with one single apple. Her children were her everything. Why didn't I learn that fact? It could save us a lot of petty arguments and broken hearts. Why did we expect more from her when she had very little to begin with? 

My mother wasn't the kind who would caress us or spoke in a soft tone; her life itself was harsh. But beneath it all, she loved us with all her heart. Let the world turned against her children, she'd never would. Life was never fair to her but she remained loyal to her only husband who left her hanging 37 years ago. Figuring out life with a dozen of kids, I believed there were times she wished her life was different but never once she turned her back on us. Even on him, she's loyal til the end. For her, he was her only love, her only husband, the love of her heart. My mother was not a quitter. It didn't matter that he didn't even care to come to her funeral; what matter was that she loved him to death.

She knew no letters, she knew no words; her life was one big complicated monotone puzzle. But she nurtured us so we could have a better future. And as always, we forgot that fact all the time. Children often think that a mother's heart is made of steel. Words wound. They inflict pain. Many times I saw her teary eyes because of something we said. But mothers are made forgiving, I reckon. Now that I am a mother, I understand better.

I took her soft hands in mine, she hold them tight. She recognized me, she even called my name. I asked for her forgiveness, she told me to not worry about a thing, I have no sins with her. I would never know whether it's me that she saw on the last day I saw her alive, but in that brief moment, it broke my heart. I could have been a better daughter to her, why hadn't I? She's my mother through and through, and I just couldn't be bothered, could I?

When I came home during holidays, she'd wait for me, sitting near the window looking outside, happy to see her daughter came home. Eager to make my favorite coffee, eager to have dinner together, eager to spend time with me. Her children were her life, why didn't I know that? Mother's heart soften at a sight of her children.  She's really proud of her kids. When we excelled at school, she'd tell the whole village about it. Her children were her only pride, why didn't we understand that fact? Bare with her for a minute while she bragged about it. Why was it so hard? We were her only pride. What else matter?

The older I get, the more I realize that I'm more like her that I thought I was. I couldn't stand to see the bedroom door opens when I sleep, even a slight. I couldn't stand seeing people doing things slowly, I would want to do it myself. I'm starting to repeat things I say. Tia says mama born in Tiger, that's why I'm fierce but I'd do anything for my kid in her time of need. How would Tia remember me when i'm gone?
 
I remember my mother everyday since her passing and she's here with me, all the time. I was not a good daughter to her when she's in need of me. But I hope I could redeem that for the rest of my life. She was a great mother through and through despite of so many adversities in her life. She was my great mother who I respected, loved and admired.

Oh how I pray that Allah puts her soul amongst the pious' souls and I hope she receives my gifts often enough if not everyday. Mak, forgive me for all my sins to you and I hope to meet you again when the time comes.