When I opened my Facebook this morning , it was inundated with a spate of the posts about  my friends’ greetings on their mothers.  Aha, I  slipped my mind; yesterday , it was Mother’s  Day after all.

Most of the posts are the  perpetual , dramatic sentiments about their mothers’ indefatigable sacrifices and moral support.To express their tears of maternal affection, they uploaded the ‘selfies’ or ‘groupies’ having a date with their mothers whereas some; the old  pictures  reminiscent of how careworn their mothers used to be , to add lachrymal effect .Alas, I lost my mother’s picture, the only  ineffable memento I would have been cherishing now. Bitter I sound to be, but   the last time when I posted  such thing how I missed my mother a whole lot was in 2013:

“It’s Mothers’ Day. So what?”, muttering under my breath while reading your greeting posts. Probably because I can no longer feel the atmosphere of maternal care in our house. There’s no such a mother figure that comforts me whenever I arrive home tired,or to whom I can turn whenever I get down, or my sister gets sick. There’s no such thing as a maternal gourmet whenever I eat my dinner. There are no such things as maternal household chores whenever I clean the house on weekends. There’s no such thing as a maternal voice that can be a lullaby or music to my ears, or who can be a gossip raconteur. In other words, mother loving tender care in any other forms doesn’t exist in the house anymore. In the same way,I’m asking myself what’s the sense if I wanna post such greeting. Could the message be sent away to the other dimension of life? Could she read my post if she had a Facebook in the place wherever she might be now? I don’t have the foggiest idea. Nevertheless,I like the fact how the Fate gave me such a purpose, putting on shoes how to be a mother to such an extent that it is unbearable. In doing so makes me realize the time how I acted up, how insouciant I was while she almost buckled under stress to provide us with everything she could do. 

My mother was not far different from every mother in the world ; she had this mother instinct, willing to endure and kill, if necessarily, to protect her children,but unique to her ways of expressing her loves. She was not just a very sweet mother but also a friend who bantered with us. My mother,on the other hand, was also ignorant of child psychology,but she never lacked how to discipline us with a carrot and stick. (laughs) Sometimes, her words went into one of our ears and out the other; then we got an earful from her. Oh,I miss my mom. (smiles)

Despite the influences of the books, I want to believe that my mother would be hearing or reading my mind posting this mushy message now. I LOVE YOU,mama.Your spirit of love will never fade into oblivion in the bottom part of my heart and memory. I knew the day you departed the world that you entrusted me with your younger daughter .I will do my best.


There are times that I can not bring myself to read it again nor write another one, how I may have been so ” immature” in the eyes of the oldie or armchair critics . But , in harmony with a psychologist’s opinion,  getting over someone you have loved  and lost takes a long period of time; it could be an indelible mark you could never  escape and which   could specter  you until death .And I bear witness to this fact.

Happy Mother’s  Day to every one! ^^


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