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Imagine you are being asked the question: what is the best thing that has ever happened in your life? You might answer the raised question by uttering your biggest and possibly greatest achievements like getting an award at school, finishing your college degree, or even having luxurious valuables perhaps. But I would answer it as simply as possible: the best is that I was born to a mother who has been showing me unconditional love. That, I would never experience the surprises of the world, and its vast platform of learning without her.
As I am growing older, undergoing the stages of life, I am unconsciously recognizing the details of my mother’s features, slowly fading as a wilting rose during sunset. Some streaks of her hair are getting grayer, probably, concrete evidence of her konsumisyon towards her children. Her lips and forehead wrinkled like a withered leaf that lost its youth. Her strength is not the same as before when she could lift the earth for me and try to ease my burden. She does not like to bellow at me anymore like the way I used to listen when I was a child when I soaked myself in the rain and climbed the barbed-wired fence. She is not the way she was before. Her looks have changed. But these things I called sacrifices build the rabbles into something wonderful: someone like me.
Her wrinkles above her brows, her lips, and the lines of her eyes, all that has changed in her is so nostalgic that I want to go back to being an innocent child who seeks refuge beneath the peaceful arms of his mother. They are connotations of the peace she has been providing us. The wrinkles above her brows, I see it now, they are exhausted by thinking about our good future. She is not running out of diskarte. Her lips, dried in the scorching heat of time, giving us the best advice, praising our victory, and even telling the truth when lies tear us apart because she wants peace within us. Our peace is her peace as well. Her legs may have become fragile as time passes by and her strength may be slowly fading, but one thing is unchanging, her heart swells with dreams and complacency.
The world and its antagonist might consider you as the weakest target but your supermom, your superhero in her cape would be there, even in the dark confines and deep, dark sea, to save you from all this drowning. When the world burdens you on your back, she could lift it for you. For that, a mother was someone we should look up to, or we must look up to. In the light of her sacrifices, I am now trying to recognize not her physical aspects that were altered by time, but the implications of her actions she is attempting to teach me. Hence, when we already learned our lesson from our special teacher, only then we could reciprocate back their struggles and give them peace of mind. Lastly, time is inevitable, therefore, gather those flowers while ye may.
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