I’ve been hopelessly scrambling and searching and sorting the thoughts inside my head. I figured that a rainy Sunday morning is the perfect time to finally write a decent post on my coma blog. I mean, I thought about writing other things about work [which I always do], school [I cannot really concoct a well-versed story, currently, everything about it is a blur], the kind of love I always fantasize about [too-good] and et cetera. But yea, with David Bowie’s Let’s Dance [I love this song!] conquering my background noise, I decided to write a short something re: my mom [or mommio or moms in my lingo].
Honestly, I think there will never be enough words to describe how thankful I am for her. I thank the lord every day that he gave me someone so perfect, so intelligent and so full of zest for a mother. Mind you, we lost our daddy when my older brother was only 10, I was eight and Drew was only six. She carried us all on her shoulders… without any type of help. Heck, we never even had a father figure. It was all her. I don’t think I can ever fathom the kind of love God has for me, for sending me to a woman like her. It’s too much to handle.
Looking back, during my younger years,
- I never slept around.
- I never had an emo/dark/gothic phase.
- I never ran away from home.
- I never tried illegal substances.
- I never attempted to self harm.
- I never got wasted drunk.
- I always knew when to walk away and say NO.
For some people, it’s normal to go through those phases… I get it, I understand it. But I managed to avoid all of these destructive things not because she put me in shackles and behind bars, not because she was my personal Hitler, not because she blackmailed me, not because she put a paper bag over my head… none of those. It’s simply because she showed me in the best way she can that she loves me and that she trusts me. She made sure that I have a friend in her… that parents can be friends too. I think that’s very important… That’s all that she did. As a Psychology student, I’m convinced that everything about us humans today stem from what kind of parenthood our parents showed us. And I’m beyond proud that I am one of her three children.
That’s why I blush and shrink when people give me compliments, when they tell me that I’m a good kid slash role model and whatnot… In all honesty, my part of that victory is really small. It was my mom that made me like this. You see, I am not perfect, I am flawed and I make terrible mistakes. And I am beyond capable of making a million more in years to come… but I do hope to God that when I become a parent, that I’ll be as good of a mother. Not even just as good, really. It’s pretty impossible. But I think I’ll be just fine if I even get ¼ of her. I just want that in my life.