Dear mom, thank you and I love you

A seed was perfectly positioned next to the mature plant. Shortly afterwards the seedling began to sprout and broke through the soil. Just as the seedling began to show promise of what it was to become, the crippling drought came. The seedling started to whither within the arid, cracked soil. The adult plant let the few morning dewdrops it had managed to collect slide down its parched leaves. The dewdrops dripped unto the seedling and quenched its dying thirst. A thunderstorm eventually came and broke the dry spell. The overzealous rain almost drowned the seedling with the water pounding from above. The seedling recoiled unto itself for fear. The mature plant spread its leaves wide over the seedling, an umbrella to protect it from the downpour. When the sun emerged, the mature plant leaned back slightly and let the warm glow touch the seedling. With help from the mature plant, the seedling eventually grew strong enough to become a robust plant itself.

I liken myself to that young, budding seedling and my mom to the mature plant. My mom gave of herself so that I can thrive, be bigger than her. She sheltered me when storms attempted to weaken me. In my lifetime she sacrificed herself many times so that I may reach my full potential. The generosity and love directed towards me is incomparable to no other. In not any one of those instances did she ever ask for anything in return.

Yet I have never actually told my mom how I feel about her nor about all the things she has done for me. Certain people wait a lifetime for the perfect moment to tell someone something as simple as what they mean to them. I include myself in that group. Always contemplating whether the mood is right, seeking the best time, or pursuing an optimum setting. Really they’re merely excuses used to procrastinate expressing my feelings. It’s not fair to her to hold back in that fashion. I should not wait until her eulogy to say all the things I should have told her during her lifetime. I want to bring her joy now with my words. I need to tell her now what she means to me. My mom never held back and neither should I.

The least I could do is tell my mom thank you. Just thank you for everything. Let her know how immensely grateful I am for all her dedicated attention. Thank you for always having my back and catching me whenever I fell down. Thank you for never giving up on me whenever I did not have it in me anymore to keep going. Thank you for all times you pushed and poked me to do better, to be the best version of me.

The most I could do is tell my mom I love you. Of everyone I know, I love you the most. I want to tell you how much I love how you know me, at times even better than I know myself. I love your cooking, which not only nourished me but also comforted me. I love how even though you are a septuagenarian you seemingly have more than enough energy to spread. I love you mom.

All this I will tell my mom. I can write it all up in a letter to her too. Better yet, I can write up two letters, a thank you letter and a love letter. She can have them as a keepsake, an official, permanent record of my gratitude and love. The sapling could never have become a mature plant without her.