A Mother Story

Yes, mom and I always disagree.
No, we did not have that mother-daughter bonding.
Yes, we’re ages apart, farther than you expected.
No, we’re not really close.
Yes, I know, she loves me more than any words could tell.
No, I wouldn’t allow anything and anybody hurt her. NEVER.
Yes, she is my weakness.
No, she’s not perfect.
Yes, I’ll pass her teaching to my kids.

I have what I believe was a different story.

I am an adopted child. Yes, I’m not ashamed of it. I am aware of it since I was little. My biological parents left me under my foster parents’ care since I was a baby. No hesitation, they let me know the truth since maybe I was a toddler. At first I had a lot of questions. But as I grow up, I’ve learned why things went that way. Apparently, I stopped asking questions and learned to accept the fact. After all, I never felt different and left out. In fact I was filled with unconditional love from day 1 up to now. Yes, never ending love.

Mom was my first teacher. She taught me everything I know. From basic reading and writing to dealing with life and even being a soon to be mom. Who I am today is mainly because of her. Mom and I are generations apart and how she raised me was clearly old school. She wasn’t the strict type but makes sure I live by her teachings: from the use of po and opo, limited TV time, not saying of bad words, behaving lady-like, and one of the most important: be home before it gets dark. It was never easy  being her daughter. I used to feel different from other kids who were allowed of so many things even at a young age. But later when I grew up, I realized what those limits are for.

Mom and I didn’t have the mother-daughter bonding you may have with your moms. We never went to a spa, never shopped together; we never dated. She was focused on supporting my education needs so we never spared a peso for any unnecessary expense. I remember when she would bring me to where she needed to go, we would eat on a fast food chain and she would only buy a meal for me. Not sure if she’s not hungry or what. But she would always think of me. Me first.

Mom and I disagree on so many things, YES! Too many things that we often forget who’s the mom and who’s the daughter. Generation gap, I guess. But mom is my weakness and of course, I can’t live the day arguing with her. Oftentimes, I’d go to my room and just get it over with.

Mom is my hero. I literally may be found on the streets have they not accepted me as part of the family. She did not carry me in her womb for 9 months but she carries me in her arms and takes me in her heart for 27 years now (and still counting). Imagine a twenty-seven, married, soon to be having a child still living with her mom! (That’s me.K.)

Mom and I weren’t the expressive type. We don’t exchange I love you’s every so often. But we know by heart that we love each other so much.

Mom is my inspiration. She isn’t perfect but she’s the best example for me and my sisters. And now that I am bringing my first born to the world soon, I’ll be teaching her what my mom have always taught me about: to love unconditionally.

There’s nothing in this world like a mother’s love, whether she is your biological mom or not. God knows I owe everything to my mom and I will forever be grateful of the life she is giving me. My lifetime is dedicated to giving her back the love she has always been giving me.

Love you, mom!



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