Everyone and their mothers in my facebook friends' list probably know by now that I grew up with my grandmother.
It is for this reason why my personality is a conundrum for my mom. Contrary to how I act with friends and strangers, I don't exert effort on being bubbly and energetic at home. Ninety-eight percent of the time, I am lethargic, snarky, and sarcastic. If you do not see me spewing life lessons and philosophical whatnots for my siblings, I'm probably at the corner fiddling with my phone. When I'm in the mood to be hyper, I'll be bothering my sister as childishly as possible and I'll leave troll comments on my brothers' Facebook accounts. All of this is a huge mystery to my mom.
One time, she scolded my sister, Sharmaine, and I because we were dissing each other. Mom thought we were fighting. There's also that incident when she thought I'm sad because I am too lazy to smile and laugh. My mom does not get my dry humor and she finds it difficult to assess whether I'm joking or not (well, most people probably do too). Sarcasm has been a language I've spoken fluently through the years so it slips into my daily conversations without me knowing and my mom will take all of it into heart.
These days, we've been hanging out more than usual. I guess she has gotten used to me now because she doesn't get surprised anymore when I laugh at random stuff. She has also grown familiar of my cranky, bitchy self and would not mind if I get annoyed one minute and then cheerful again the next. The other night, she asked me if I wanted to visit a sick relative in the hospital. I frowned, looked at the time (10 PM), and said I'm too tired and I'll just send fruits or whatever; but if she wants to visit, she can go visit the person herself. She looked at me and said that it's a nice gesture to visit a sick person. I said "yeah but I don't really care about her though". And this is where we get to the point why I'm writing this long-ass post. My mom, who was always at a loss over the insensitive actions and words of her first-born (me), laughed. She laughed out loud.
She laughed and her laughter turned into golden stardust and haloed her presence in the night. I was the one who was caught off-guard. The mom I know would berate me for saying something as simple as "I don't really care"---a line that has been a part of my daily repertoire of words. I looked at her in awe and it has been three days now but I still think about that incident.
This morning, I caught myself staring into space thinking about the profound moment and I felt the need to write this to remember it---the moment when I finally felt that I am now truly, and fully is, her daughter.
This post could wait until Mother's Day but I don't like waiting (and I don't intend for my mom to see this anyway) so... yeah. Not everyone is lucky enough to be born and raised by the same person, so be thankful if you had that chance.
Hug your mom.
No comments:
Post a Comment