Post-Mum's Day Special

Blog has been an outlet to some of us. Sometimes, it is where we find good place to express what we feel about something; to express hatred of something, admiration and anything, that would make us feel comfortable.

I've been writing about different stuff on my Blog; Julia Campbell, my school, anything, but not about my family. So, I thought why not talk about my lovely Mum this time, since mum's day has just passed.

Thelma, her real name, is now having her 55Th year living on the planet. 56Th on October. Not to old, huh? I'm 23 now, and if you sum up, she had me when she was 32. Old enough for some. For me, too, I think that's too old. Old enough to raise a child perfectly. With perfect discipline, nice guidance, unconditional love, and endless support.

(This is not against her, I'm just expressing my feelings)

As Thelma's eldest, I couldn't say she raised me up well. It's not that I'm not satisfied with how she nurtured me and my brother, but I would say I needed more. How she brought me up is what I am right now. I grew up with her around. Despite working hard and going home in the evening, earlier the next day, she would still prepare breakfast for me and my brother, she packs our lunch for school, takes us bath, and clothes us our school uniforms. She never missed a day doing that.

As a kid, I thought I had a perfect life. Good sets of childhood friends, branded clothes and shoes, nice toys and stuff, Nintendo, a 3-player CD with awesome speakers, enrolled in a private elementary school with good daily allowance, plus a tutor after school. Nice food everyday, plus on weekends, my family would go out and dine somewhere. But when I was little by little growing up, I noticed that I lack something. Something a child must obtain; Mum's moral support.

As a kid, I noticed that it was not me, the favourite in the family. The focus was not in me, it was in my little brother. But that was not a big deal to me, since I had those material things that would make me happy, Nintendo and other nice stuff. Though, somehow, I had that little feeling of jealousy. Okay, we're not going to the jealous thing.

I've seen from my friends how moral support from family made them as better person now. Having good support from parents would get them closer. Since your parents trust you, you cold easily tell them what you're going through and anything. But not in my family. I don't know, but I guess it has something to do with how I was raised up. I belong to the family that is not open to each of its member. Where saying, "I love you" is an awkward thing. We don't even hug when we see how sad one is. I once did that when I was a little kid. I hugged Mum and put my chin on her shoulder, (I guess it was on her birthday) but she asked me to stop it. "Stop it!", she said. It was like she was irritated or disgusted of me. That was not the last time I did that, though. One day, I wanted her to buy something. (A pair of rubber shoes that Grant Hill was wearing. Yeah, I used to play basketball back then.) I pleaded to her in a childish manner with a huge hug, but again, she asked me to stop what I was doing. By then, I realized that 'hug' is not in her dictionary. Even saying, "please", or "sorry" is completely not her type. Since then, I refrained from doing so. Even though, I'm the kind of person who loves to hug. I just hid my emotion all the way.

Each time Mum's Day passes, I feel envious of those children who present something to their mums. Treating them special on this special day. Greeting them, and telling them how important they are to them, and saying "I love you", of course. I wish to do the same, but as I've said, it is awkward to my family.

On Mum's Day this year, my family went to church to attend a mass. In the middle of the ceremony, all mums were requested to go in front and were presented a good song by the Priest, himself. The song was written by the said Priest and it was especially made for mums. The song was about how thankful a child is to her mum, how sorry he is for all the wrong deeds, pains, disappointments and anything. The song was heart-warming. It was so touching. I saw myself in the song. I wanted to tell Mum what was in the lyrics, but I couldn't. What can I do, that is how she raised me, to hide emotion.

One more thing I noticed as I was growing up is that she doesn't have the faith in me. (Oops, this is not self-pity, okay.) She doesn't think I can do some things. Like when I'm playing my guitar. Whenever she hears me playing, she would just stop me by saying, "Stop that. You can't even play a good note". I know, I don't play the guitar that well, but I can play some songs. Also, when I watch TV. She just hates it whenever she sees me watching foreign series, or talk shows or movies. She would say, "turn that off" or "tune that to another channel, cause I don't think you understand its story". Something like that. She doesn't have the faith in, she doesn't believe in me. I think she's against me. That is why I think I lack the confidence that other has. How would you have the believe in yourself, if your mum, herself doesn't.

Now, I'm, a bit relief, for I have expressed my feelings.Still, after all those, as every child claims, "my Mum is the best mum!" As I've said, this article has nothing against Thelma. I love her, and I'm so thankful to have her. I don't have any achievements so far, but I wish to make her proud someday. And that 'someday' is hopefully soon.

How about you, guys? I'd appreciate to hear anything about your mummies :)

I have a smile stretched from ear to ear

to see you walking down the road
we meet at the lights I stare for a while the world around disappears

just you and me on this island of hope

a breath between us could be miles
let me surround you my sea to your shore

let me be the calm you seek

oh and every time I'm close to you
there's too much

I can't say and you just walk away

and I forgot to tell you I love you

and the night's too long

and cold here without you I grieve in my condition

for I cannot find the strength to say I need you so