Because I Wanted To Thank You

I was 12 when I had lost my father. 

Neither I nor my mom was prepared for it.

And at first, it was difficult to accept that it had happened.

I would wait all night for my father to come back home and hug me.

I fantasized about how I would tell him everything that was happening in my life, the new movie that I saw, or this cute boy who winked at me and what not.

I would refuse to get out of bed, go to school, or study.

I wanted to wait for him.

By the time I would wake up, my mom had left for the office, cooked the meals and cleaned the house as if nothing had changed.

The sight made me angry at mom.

And then I was mad at my (dead) father for not coming (home) and then at myself for waiting.

I wanted to tell mom how I was feeling but I was afraid that I would hurt her.

I didn't know anything about what she felt about it or how she was coping up.

So, I waited and kept running into that vicious cycle of resentment and hope and guilt and back.

This continued (for a very long time) until one day I heard my mom sobbing with her face hidden deep inside the blanket.

I was paralyzed. I did not know if I should say something or wake her up!

At that moment, I realized how she was struggling too.

Maybe, like me, she was afraid of saying so and hurting me.

I never asked her about it.

But here’s what happened the next day....

I woke up before her and got to my books.

The next day after that I helped her with the dishes.

The next to next day I ran the errands too.

And fast forward 8 years I was managing my finances with everything else....

My mom's been a big reason for whatever I have achieved so far and everything that I am today (earning a six-digit income at the age of 20 is one of them)

Even today, the word 'mom' means so much more to me than 'biological attachment' (as associated with the word)

So, cheers to all the mommies of the world who inspire us with their action.

Thank you for not giving up :)

And #happywomen'sday people!