Saying thanks could be so hard I never knew. Thanks for molding, shaping and sculpting who I am.
The gratitude is for not one event, one chance, one moment but for the life I live, the courage that strengthens me, the hope that brighten me, values that guide me and wisdom that shapes me.
Gratitude for every warp and weft of my wings that you knitted in colors for years, and then willingly cut off from your fingers to let me fly to explore the wonders of the sky. Was it easy for you to cut those twines from your fingers or did you feel the same joy that lapped against the shore of your heart, when the cord was cut between you and me and I was woken to the shimmering shades of life? You rejoiced to see the symphony you composed flailing its limbs and fluttering its eyes lashes at you.
This moment is weighing me down because no matter what all I say it won’t suffice to unburden me. I am sorry and I am thankful. I owe you and I can never repay you.
Here, I am writing this letter, lingering over every word and reliving my childhood, teenage and youth in those pauses. So many emotions ebb together then wash off into the depths of my soul. I feel happy, sad, lost, found, strong and weak – all at the same time.
Let me tell you I feel sorry for the plates of food I left behind while rushing for office. I am sorry for the messy wardrobes. I am sorry for the harsh words. I am sorry for silly moments when I thought that “you don’t understand ”. You know ma, today I think you knew me better than I ever did myself.
Now, when I am thousands of miles away from you I face this world all by myself. In between putting up the show of being strong and independent, and somewhere in the middle of playing roles of a mother, wife, colleague and friend, I break down and feel like crawling back to the warmth of your lap.
When I am misunderstood, I miss you because no words were needed between us… you could read my silence. When my work is not acknowledged, I miss you because you clapped at the doodles I drew on the walls. When I slog through days in fever without anyone noticing, I miss you because you would touch, flip-flap, my forehead even when I was just quiet.
I wish those moments could roll back, the carefree days of my childhood. I wish I could live them again. Or may this be just a dream, I would wake up to your calls to get ready for school.
Ma I love you that is all I can say. You are very special to me.
Happy Mother’s Day