(IV)
I’ll wrap up this emotional roller coaster with my mum, the woman I’d be nothing without (and not only for the biological reasons). She is the definition of the saying “parents will always love their children” because she does, unconditionally, despite my long list of failures as a daughter. She’s stuck by me, trying hard to pull me up, even when all I did was push her away. She’s seen every side of me: with and without makeup, high on caffeine, excited to the brim of hyperactivity, horribly sleep deprived, sick, apathetic and sappy in love. She knows every emotion I possess, every secret, ugly corner. I believe we have a special connection because of that.
We constantly joke about actually being sisters: we swap clothes, scheme and conspire against the men of our family, forming secrets for just the two of us. She’s funny, interesting, quite adorably forgetful and young in spirit. She’s a role model in many ways.
We plan meals and cook them together if I have enough free time. We’re close but at the same time, we respect our boundaries without having to tell each other where our limits are because we know them as if they were our own.
She wants to take part in everything I do, doing her best to keep up with my latest projects: asking about my sketches, if I enjoyed the book I finished, the hidden meanings of the articles I post on my blog, my crazy social life…
She often, randomly, tells me that I look pretty or sexy and that she loves my sense of fashion when I’m standing in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready for school or about to go out on a Saturday. She knows I need the reminder sometimes, her timing near-perfect.
I don’t want our relationship to change, not when I’m an independent adult living in my own house, and certainly not if I go abroad, far, on some scholarship.
One of her goals (in her very words) is to ensure my happiness. She’ll do anything for me. Her sense of sacrifice is shocking. I feel strangely in debt with her for all the above reasons (and more), overwhelmed with gratitude. I don’t have to be a mother myself to understand. I guess I’ll always wonder what I did to deserve such a guard angel.