I cannot begin to explain the importance of a mother in the life of a child. A mother’s love is something no one can explain. It is made of deep care, sacrifice and enormous strength. She is the kind of person who would slaughter her own dreams for the dreams of her children. She is someone who would stay up all night when her child is unwell. She is someone who scolds you for the petty things but embraces you when you have failed to keep up with life’s lofty expectations.
A mother is a woman who has many roles to play but she would always put her children first. I also had a mother, a mother who loved me with all her might. I failed to understand her intentions behind her scolding, to understand how much she’d done for me, to understand all the hardships she went through to get me where I am. I failed to understand the values and the morals she tried to instil in me to make me a whole woman, just like she was. It was a Friday afternoon. I had just got home from an exhausting day at school.
Mum was not home as yet. I lingered around the house thinking that she would be stuck in traffic and I was hoping she would come home soon because I needed to be at a party later that evening. Time passed without me doing anything constructive. I only forced myself to do work when mum was home and so I was enjoying the alone time I had with myself. The phone rang. I picked up the receiver not knowing that this one phone call would change everything forever. A jagged and cold voice whispered the news of my mum’s accident to me.
My mum had slipped into a coma and the chances of her surviving where close to impossible. After hearing about this I was left dumbstruck! The receiver slipped out of my vigorously shaking hand. A sharp pain penetrated my veins and spread like a hot burning fire through my body. The fire entered my heart and my heart sank in a pool of escalating anguish. My fingers felt numb and I was unable to move for a few seconds. Slowly my hurt began flowing down my blistering cheeks as tears. The tears were flowing uncontrollably. It has been six months since the accident.
In these months I’ve realised the importance of my mum. I feel the emptiness in my life. I took all the things she did for me for granted. I never showed her love and affection that she deserved. When I look back I regret all the things I should have done for her. I regret each and every word that I spat to her in anger. I regret the times we fought. Most of all I regret not telling her I love her. This tormenting experience has taught me to love and appreciate the people who love me because I am incomplete without them. This was a hard lesson learnt.