Cradle to grave. It’s a promise you made and one which I know I make very hard for you to follow through on. I know I don’t say it or show it enough, but if there ever was someone worth admiring in my life, it would be you. If you were to read this, I know you’d just give out a disbelieving laugh and simply wave it off, but you are the most forgiving, the smartest, strongest, bravest and prettiest woman I have ever met. And I’m sorry for being such a brat all the time.
I know I hurt your feelings sometimes and I know I shut myself off. I know it seems like I don’t come to you a lot when something is bothering me, but that isn’t because I don’t trust you or know that you would help ( I know you will), it is simply because you have enough on your plate with four kids and a full-time job and with all the problems you’ve been facing the past few years at work, I doubt you need the stupid insignificant troubles of your teenage daughter on top of them. I’m sorry about always being in my room even when you come home early just to spend a little extra time with us. I’m sorry for all of the thoughtless, mean things I have said to you in the past (and there have been quite a few, I know), you have to know I never mean any of it. I love you. Even if it seems like I don’t lately.
And from her great and humble position in the family she had taken dignity and a clean calm beauty. From her position as healer, her hands had grown sure and cool and quiet; from her position as arbiter she had become as remote and faultless in judgment as a goddess. –John Steinbeck, Grapes of Wrath
I know I come off detached, and I know I can be frustratingly stubborn when we do fight. I’m sorry about that too. You deserve the best, and there is nothing I’m sorrier about than being unable to give it to you. I’m sorry about all the times I have raised my voice at you and been disrespectful and selfish. I’m sorry about all the movies I’ve missed out on watching with you at the theatre and cited unimportant school work as the excuse.
I’m sorry about being such a typical teenager. I try hard not to be one, but I know I fail. I’m sorry about all the times I’ve fallen short. Disappointing you is and always has been my worst nightmare. You really do deserve the best and I’m sorry that I’ve never been able to be that.
You take a lot of crap from me, and despite my many, many faults and mistakes, you’ve always been there with a warm hug at the end of the day. I love the way your neck and hair smells and there is nothing more comforting that being wrapped up in your arms. Nobody hugs like you do. I’m sorry that at the end of a long, tiring day at work, you have to come home to a blaring TV and two fighting, crying babies. I’m sorry about all the times I’ve fought with Sam, I know it pains you to see us not getting along (we get along a lot better now though, despite what it seems like).
I’m sorry about making you feel unwanted sometimes. It’s not intentional. It’s scary how much I still need you despite being 16 already. Aren’t teens supposed to be able to figure things out by themselves now? I try to do things on my own, because, as you keep reminding me, you might not be around one day and if (God forbid) that ever happens, I need to take care of Kid No 2, Kid No. 3 and Kid No. 4. I guess it comes off wrong sometimes.
You truly are a remarkable woman. You have a career and a challenging job but still manage to be there for your kids; I know you feel guilty sometimes about being a working mother, but we truly are lucky to have you. You’re a fantastic parent and I love you. As does kid #2, 3 and 4. And these just might seem as empty, obligatory words, but you are the most wonderful mother out there. I’m sorry I’m not the daughter you deserve.
I’m sorry it seems like I’m drifting away…I’m not. I wouldn’t know what to do without you. Everybody has this voice inside their head, right? The voice of reason and humanity? Well, the voice inside my head is yours. (Speaking of voices inside my head makes me seem slightly mental, doesn’t it? Oh well.)
Its Mother’s Day this Sunday and I figured it was finally time to put all this out there. I’m sorry about the past few months with the decade and stuff.
I love you mumma, I really do. And I’m thankful. For the years you spent watching Scooby Doo and Popeye and Tom and Jerry with me; for teaching me how to dance and write; for buying me all those books and for going to all those stuffy book fairs in both cold and hot weather just for me. For all the stuff you’ve sacrificed over the years—like peace of mind and privacy and quiet time. You’re the most selfless person I’ve seen and I would be proud to become half the woman you are.
When things seen absolutely dark and unending, being cocooned in your warmth and that comforting scent lets me know it’s all going to be okay. You’ve been my friend even when I’ve stubbornly pushed you away.
I’m sorry and I’m thankful, and I love you with all my heart and more.
Kid No. 1
P.S Happy Mother’s Day 😀