Happy Birthday Ma

When times are happy or trying, low or soaring, or just standing still, there is one person I need to share it with—the strength and the anchor of my life—my mother.

This special piece is just for you Ma.

Mom is tall, though she never had to be—we would look up to her anyway. She is beautiful and that does not matter too. She is fair, and that is true of more than her much wrinkled skin. Her hands are not tender; they are rather firm and hard. Her brows are not plucked and her hands are not creamed. But she still is the most beautiful person I have set my eyes on.

There are many memories that come to mind when I think of Mom; the lingering smell of freshly baked melting moments on the staircase when we tiredly trekked home after school; my extra fluorescent, shocking-bright-parrot-green lunch bag that she ever so diligently packed our lunches in; the afternoon naps by her side when she read from the newspapers to me; the stories of smart kids, humble sages, ogre aunts, and monster uncles she filled me with; the delightful birthday celebrations; the sacred family prayer times; quickly packed picnics to random places; the home-tailored petticoats and smocked dresses; the mango ice cream and low-fat lime pickles; and many more such memories.

Another thought that comes to mind when I think about Mom is discipline. Mom is a keen disciple of discipline. There is a time and place for everything and that explains exactly why growing up with her was not so easy. I never could see the time and place for anything until a few years ago when my kids also began not to see the same. I regret all the years when my teenage sensibilities did not allow us see eye to eye. It all seems like a wasted lifetime in between.

She lives inspired by the thought, ‘Better to burn out than rust out.’ I have never seen her rest in between; she always has something to do. If nothing else, peeling garlic is time invested for a better tomorrow. She managed everything alone; the washing, the cleaning, the kids, the kids’ friends, and the long list of guests. She played her many roles of mother, teacher, wife, agony aunt, life jacket, counselor, and more, with ease and versatility. I look at my kids today and can’t help but think, they got a very raw deal.

Mom turns 68 today. Arthritis, diabetes, hypertension, and osteoporosis notwithstanding, she still never rests. She finds the time to tend to all of us with her special charm and grace.

I do not have a count of the many lives you touched in these seven odd decades Ma, but I know that the four of us and Pa could never have made it without you.

Happy Birthday
Yours,
Baby