When I was four, I remember sitting in the car, waiting for you so we could leave for a visit to a relative’s house. After a while, daddy asked me to check on you.
I hopped off and entered your room to find you putting on lipstick in front of the mirror. Wanting to be like you, I mimicked the way you puckered yours lips and said I wanted to try it too.
You laughed but held my chin gingerly as you applied it on me. I ran eagerly outside to show dad.
The look on his face was priceless.
When I was six, I remember pointing at a very kick-a** ‘Hello Kitty’ hair pin in a glass display and asked if I could have it.
You said no.
I asked why.
You said that I would lose it, just like every hair accessory I owned.
I said that I would keep it well and would still have it with me till I was old.
You gave in and bought it for me.
And I lost it.
Whenever I was frustrated or mad, I would hide under my bed. I would bring my blanket, pillows and a large bottle of water (for survival) with me. I’d imagine myself hiding there forever without your knowledge, occasionally coming out in search of food.
Surprisingly, you would always find me.
When I was eight, we moved houses. I remember you cooing and cuddling the baby girl next door because she was ‘oh so cute’. I thought you didn’t love me anymore because she was cuter. I was so jealous of her at the time. Looking back, I realized how silly I was.
There were times when I disappointed you.
There were times when I made you cry.
I’m truly sorry for them.
But as a mother, you’d never hold them against me.
I remember holding your hands and looking at them in wonder.
These hands cradled me. They nourished me. They cared for me.
What beautiful hands they are.
Thank you for always being there for me.
Happy Mother's Day.