Dear Mumma,
I know it’s not mother’s day or your birthday. I felt like I don’t need reasons or occasions to tell you how much I love you. Yes, I am going to go all blah blah about you now. You can keep a big towel ready because tissues won’t suffice (the weeper you are).
Mommy, you know, someone once asked me who my favorite person was. I thought a lot, okay? Not about the answer, but the justification.
I said, “I think it’s my mommy!” I got a very smug “Isn’t that clichéd?” hurled at me.
I refused to the point blatantly. “I think I’d have liked her even if she weren’t my mommy. She is a wonderful person. Everyone loves her.”, I said, with my chin up.
Then I went on and on about you until that person was convinced of how much I adore you despite the fact that every kid is obliged to love his/her mommy. Since mommies sacrifice so much for their babies, trade their dreams and aspirations for the baby’s well-being, in turn, it’s the duty of every baby to return the unconditional love.
But mommy, what if we weren’t mommy and baby? (No don’t imagine and get happy now. You are stuck with this painful human being you gave birth to (ME), forever) BUT yes. What if?
What if I had stumbled upon you at a party or a marriage? I think I’d still have been drawn to you and felt super lucky to have known you.
Mommy, you are a special woman. Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise. I gape at your achievements, at your cooking, at your success, at the number of people who respect you. I feel proud when strangers recognize me because of you and your good work; when they say “Oh! Aren’t you Jayanthi madam’s daughter?”
But most of all, I stay dumbfounded at your compassion, the love and affection you shower upon people perennially and how you learn to care about every single thing I care about.
I like the way you can empathize with people. You very well know how I can never do that. I am stone hearted and apathetic and you still accept me for all my shortcomings. Wonder why that didn’t get transferred to my genes.
Reading this, you might feel like a big mature worldly person. But put a brake to your thoughts. You are 44 but you act like a 16-year-old sometimes. It makes me smile and wonder as to where I lost that giggling 16-year-old girl in me when you’ve still preserved her within you.
I keep learning from your brilliance and miss your warmth every second as the clock ticks away. Take care, mommy.
Loads of love, and millions of kisses.
Always yours,
Geethu <3 p="">
