For her, everything
So, in conjunction with Mother’s Day this year, instead of posting up a picture of my mum and I, and writing a whole essay in my caption for her (which she’ll never get to read because she’s not on Instagram) I wrote her a letter instead. It was signed, sealed and delivered to her first thing in the morning on our way to church to celebrate Mother’s Day.
P.S – Celebrating Mother’s Day with the fambam a week later because my dad had to go for a flight this weekend.
I’ve seen almost all my friend’s mothers today and I love reading everything they confess or dedicate to their mothers on social media. But when it comes to me, where do I even begin?
I never really speak about my mum in my posts or wherever because the truth of the matter is, we aren’t even close to begin with. I grew up with a mum who was hardly ever around. She had to work, to make ends meet. You see, mum had a 9 to 5pm job, whereas Dad had a ‘whenever-I-get-called-for-duty’ kinda job. So most of the time, when mum had to go to work, she’d drop my siblings and I off at my grandparents’ house. We had Nanny and a kakak who would look after us. And the only time I’d see my mum longer than the few minutes in the morning before she goes to work would be in the evenings when she’d return home or during her weekends spent at home.
I grew up with a typical Asian mum – the kind that would force me to finish every grain of rice on my plate and if I didn’t, she’d threaten me by saying, “Next time when you grow up, you’ll marry someone with a face full of pimples!”; the kind that would scold me for falling down instead of comforting me; the kind that would give me just enough money to buy a RM2.50 bun and if there was change, she’s ask that back from me too. Each time we went out, she’d warn us to “Use your own money if you want to buy anything.” And instead of a mother-daughter shopping date, she’d only agree to go to a mall if she wanted to get a specific thing and once she got it, we’d rush home. I used to watch movies of kids having such good relationships with their mums and I grew up wanting the same but instead of a listening ear or words of encouragement, I got the silent treatment and a “See! You never listen to me.”
Fast-forward to recent years, I’ve grown to accept and embrace our relationship. Mum and I may never have the usual relationship mothers and daughters have. I may never get to have mother-daughter bonding sessions or heart-to-heart talks alone with her - mum may not know the nitty-gritty details of who my first crush was or when I first got my heart broken but she’ll always be someone I run to in times of trouble and rescue. She’ll be the first person I call when I need to get from one place to another and someone whom I can always count on for anything. She’s always there – constant in every season.
Despite her shortcomings, I’ve learned to be thankful instead – for the hardwork she has put in throughout the years for my education, scrapping the barrel just to put me through college and support me financially; for always providing for my necessities and occasional wants; for pushing me to be the best version of myself with her nagging (aka words of wisdom) and for sacrificing her time and energy just to put food on the table for us.
I may not have the mum I always wish I had but I have a mum, nonetheless and that’s sufficient for me. And for as long as I can, I want to make my moments here on earth with her worthwhile because I don’t want to wake up one day thinking about the ‘could’ve, would’ve, should’ve’s.’ I want to know if I did all I could, when I could’ve.
Blessed Mother’s Day to all mothers across the globe. No matter what, y’all will forever be the queen of our hearts.
Love always, Krissy xx