Beloved Parents

I was hanging out with a friend yesterday and to my surprise and panic, he started crying for no apparent reason after coming back from getting a drink.

After a few moments of consoling, he finally opened up that he was thinking about his father and how much older he looks now with wrinkles lining his face. He further admitted that he couldn't imagine life without his dad, and mom, and that he was scared of the day when they would leave him.

How many of us have taken our parents for granted, thinking that they will always be there with us, for us? I told my friend that the day he's dreading is inevitable and the best thing is to spend as much time as possible with his parents. Life is short, once you look at it, not leaving as much time as we would like to do all the things we want to do or see.

I, for one, will admit that I don't spend time with my parents. My dad lives elsewhere and I only see him once a week, if I'm lucky, and usually that time is a maximum of 2 hours. As for my mom, even though I live with her, I'm too busy with my current shop to actually be at home or to go out with her. When I'm not at the shop, I'm usually trying to squeeze in some time with my other family members, such as my cousins, and friends.

Though it's bad for me to say, I don't really remember or appreciate the things my mom does for me. My reactions are usually thinking that she's meddling or irritating, but more often, I'ld think that she doesn't believe I can take care of myself. For example, the other day she bought me a bracelet which is suppose to shoo evils away. I remember thinking 'Aiyo, another superstitious thing' and just wore it on my wrist without much thought. When I showed it to my friend, he said, "Wah, your mom really loves you alot". His response struck a core in me, and for once, I became aware of just how much my mom cares for me. She wasn't being a coddling mother or an interfering busybody; she was just being a mom.

It takes a while to actually see that all the things she has been doing for me was actually for my own good or her own way of showing she cares for me. More than half of my life was spent watching and fearing the almost daily bickering and screaming matches between my parents. Though I lost most memories of my childhood, what sticks in my head is the selfishness I witnessed in my parents as they fought without any concern for their young children. I held resentment towards them for so many years for using me as the go-betweener that the thought of them still caring and loving me, and my brother, is simply unimaginable.

I do realize how much older my mom and dad are getting but still I can't seem to bring myself to really go all out for them. Maybe in due time I'll get past the memories and start caring more for my parents.