感謝の心
2010 will come to an end soon and it has been nothing short of amazing.
Amazing not because it has been smooth sailing, but because I have learnt so much and so much has changed.
I am still alive, and better, I am happier than I was before.
Things and people I ought to let go, I've let go and I have never looked back.
Better people and opportunities came looking for me, and how stupid was I back then to not notice what I was missing out on?
I have gained some, lost some.
My friends love me. I used to feel a sense of uncertainty when I write that - My friends love me - but not anymore.
It is nothing glaring and unlike most of the kids, they don't do mushy talk.
When I was at my worst, they stood by me, held my hand, and never let go.
They hope the best for me every single time, and I have made them worry.
Thank you.
And my parents. I am still not a good daughter. Everything that I have, I really do owe it all to them.
I am thankful for them so much. I am always given the best, and I get pretty much whatever I want.
My dad is my best friend. We don't talk much, but when we are together, the bond is so unmistakable.
He is the only person whom I can really call my other half because we are so alike. So, so, so alike.
And I am proud to have his blood flowing in me.
I went for a Parenthood exhibition at the expo and saw many families with their babies.
The mothers there were around the age when my mom had me, too. The mothers there looked terribly tired.
They lost the colour on their faces and some of them looked like they were about to pass out from fatigue.
One of the mothers I surveyed was exactly that, yet she so gently held her baby close to her chest.
Tenderness with strength, whatever strength she could muster.
It reminded me of my mother who'd go the limit for me even when I am no longer a baby.
The only difference was that this woman's husband, the father of her baby, hurriedly came up to help her.
The same tenderness, and the same kind of deliberation.
Every woman at that exhibition who struggled with their baby had their husband to help.
They looked like they were about to throw in the towel, and looked super tired.
It was then that I smiled to myself thinking that these women have no fucking idea at all.
They are nothing compared to my mother, to the single mothers out there who single-handedly bring up their children without a husband.
All mothers are great, but the ones who had to be a Mother and Father to their child... They are God-like.
I imagined my mother struggling with me as a toddler at such exhibitions alone, with couples everywhere with their babies.
It pained my heart a lot. A lot.
It was then that I realized her grace should not be mistakened as a weakness, but a strength.
She lived through it all and I am now 21.
She has my respect for bringing me up alone, ensuring that I get all the love I can get, ensuring that I did what kids do at that time when they had their parents with them (like computer classes at Ikea, or the playground tunnel thing).
I talk about being strong and all, but I have no idea at all.
My mother is actually the tough one. The toughest woman I'd ever know in my life.
I love all of you.
And thank you for loving me too.
Amazing not because it has been smooth sailing, but because I have learnt so much and so much has changed.
I am still alive, and better, I am happier than I was before.
Things and people I ought to let go, I've let go and I have never looked back.
Better people and opportunities came looking for me, and how stupid was I back then to not notice what I was missing out on?
I have gained some, lost some.
My friends love me. I used to feel a sense of uncertainty when I write that - My friends love me - but not anymore.
It is nothing glaring and unlike most of the kids, they don't do mushy talk.
When I was at my worst, they stood by me, held my hand, and never let go.
They hope the best for me every single time, and I have made them worry.
Thank you.
And my parents. I am still not a good daughter. Everything that I have, I really do owe it all to them.
I am thankful for them so much. I am always given the best, and I get pretty much whatever I want.
My dad is my best friend. We don't talk much, but when we are together, the bond is so unmistakable.
He is the only person whom I can really call my other half because we are so alike. So, so, so alike.
And I am proud to have his blood flowing in me.
I went for a Parenthood exhibition at the expo and saw many families with their babies.
The mothers there were around the age when my mom had me, too. The mothers there looked terribly tired.
They lost the colour on their faces and some of them looked like they were about to pass out from fatigue.
One of the mothers I surveyed was exactly that, yet she so gently held her baby close to her chest.
Tenderness with strength, whatever strength she could muster.
It reminded me of my mother who'd go the limit for me even when I am no longer a baby.
The only difference was that this woman's husband, the father of her baby, hurriedly came up to help her.
The same tenderness, and the same kind of deliberation.
Every woman at that exhibition who struggled with their baby had their husband to help.
They looked like they were about to throw in the towel, and looked super tired.
It was then that I smiled to myself thinking that these women have no fucking idea at all.
They are nothing compared to my mother, to the single mothers out there who single-handedly bring up their children without a husband.
All mothers are great, but the ones who had to be a Mother and Father to their child... They are God-like.
I imagined my mother struggling with me as a toddler at such exhibitions alone, with couples everywhere with their babies.
It pained my heart a lot. A lot.
It was then that I realized her grace should not be mistakened as a weakness, but a strength.
She lived through it all and I am now 21.
She has my respect for bringing me up alone, ensuring that I get all the love I can get, ensuring that I did what kids do at that time when they had their parents with them (like computer classes at Ikea, or the playground tunnel thing).
I talk about being strong and all, but I have no idea at all.
My mother is actually the tough one. The toughest woman I'd ever know in my life.
I love all of you.
And thank you for loving me too.