she seldom looks nor smile to the camera, she likes candid shots you see. instead of saying she misses me, she ask when i am coming home. when she does not like the clothes i am wearing, she fondly brushes her fingers on the crease on my sleeves while asking is there anything else i could wear. i am a nurse, she is no doctor, but she knows what i need whenever i feel ill, and not surprisingly so she is always right.
she “used” to be my epitome of womanhood. of a wife. of a daughter. of a sister (and in-law). of a mother. growing up my eyes were opened to her flaws. i realized she was not faultless. she also succumbs to anger. her patience also has limit. feisty when family is at stake. though her perfection makes me proud, it is her vulnerability that i love the most. that is what makes her real. that is what makes her a good person… hence, a good mother.
this may be a month short. but honoring mothers goes beyond Mother’s Day. i celebrate her in every breathe i take. i am blessed i have her. and all i just hope is at least i can be half of the woman she is.