Mom! I’ve watched movies on the kids crying for their mom and I’ve equally shed tears with those kids but little do the people around me realize that I am crying for my own mom and not the mom missing in the movie.
I am ten years old this year, officially a ten years old this coming September but I’ve no kisses waiting for me as I enter into the wider world of girlie life. No hands to guide me into my adolescent years. No knowing heart to share my teenage secrets. No soft cuddles to comfort me as I shed my first tears of broken heart. No shield from the coy realities of ‘girlie world’.
Seven years ago, suddenly I found my bed cold. The newly purchased thick tulip comforter didn’t comfort my cold heart. Instead of hearing,”Hush little baby, please go to sleep” during my nightly hours, I had to listen to the silent sobs of my dad, trying his best to stifle his sighs. I remember questioning my dad about the whereabouts of my mom, but all he told me with tears in his eyes was that she is gone for her further studies. I believed him for my best friend’s mom, our next door neighbor had also gone across some big ocean to study. I don’t remember the details but I do remember that when her mom returned, she was filled with goodies that she found a week too short a time to show off.
Unlike my friend’s mom, years gave way to another new year but my mom never graduated from wherever she had gone to study. I waited more for the goodies than my mom (honestly) earlier but as years gave birth to another year I forgot the goodies I could show off and waited eagerly for my mom to return. But she never came.
During the day, I stopped casting sideways glance to the dusty road climbing uphill towards our rented house that my dad and I called our home whenever I heard the roar of a car. For none of these car brought my mom. At night, I closed my ears that wanted to hear the soothing lullabies that my mom sang for me. My father never tried to learn any of the nursery rhymes but I learnt to fall asleep to his rhythmless “resem ferrere,resem ferere…”
A year ago, my deceased mom’s elder brother too decided to join him and it was on that unfortunate moment that I realized I had lost not one but two very important branches from my family tree. My Grandma sobbingly broke my already scarred heart by breaking the news about my mom’s departure to the heavenly abode where she would be joined by her brother.
Time moves with a slow dance mocking my very existence. I laugh watching various characters in the entertainment channels meant for kids of my age but seriously, I don’t follow the clownish character. I rather prefer the serious movies where kids my age cries for their mom, for I can openly shed my tears yet let it remain hidden from my dad that I am actually crying for my mom and not for the kid in the movie.
Mom! I’ve watched movies on the kids crying for their mom and I’ve equally shed tears with those kids but little do the people around me realize that I am crying for my own mom and not the mom missing in the movie.
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