It was a bright day with the sun high in the sky, and I was feeling a lot better, and my recovery was going smoothly. I decided to walk around and stretch my legs. Walking through the empty hallway, I peeked into my siblings' room from the ajar door and saw that they were still sick. Leaving them to their few moments of peaceful sleep, I headed to the kitchen.
I was feeling famished, and hunger is a part of recovery, I suppose. Entering the kitchen, I was greeted by a concerning sight. My mom was standing on the stove stirring a pot while her entire face was flushed. Immediately knowing that she was running a high temperature, I stepped forward to help out.
Just in time to see her turn off the stove and cover the soup pot. Taking her arm, I gently pulled her in the direction of her room. Making her lay on the bed, I took her temperature and was proven right. Telling her not to move from the spot, I left quickly, coming back with a bowl of soup she just cooked and some ice packs for her forehead. I made her finish the bowl under my scrutiny before covering her forehead with an ice pack.
Telling her to rest, I went to the kitchen to grab a bite. Taking an orange from the basket, I peeled it and took a bite. The burst of sweet citrus flavor in my mouth made me realize that the recovery was in progress, my sense of taste was back, and no more bland, tasteless food. Continuing with the orange, I saw some coming this way.
My mom was coming holding an empty soup bowl, her excuse that she was just coming to put it back. Rubbing my head at my stubborn mother, I took it from her, washed it, and put it on the drying rack, then sent her straight to bed, telling her to stay there.
Grabbing the peeled orange slices, I headed to the living area and made myself comfortable on the sofa. In this way, I would be able to see if mom has any funny idea again. Grabbing the newspaper, I started reading it while munching on oranges.
Time was passing by, and soon a hand entered the periphery of my vision. Turning my head, I followed the hand to the body it was attached to; 'My Mommy!'. It couldn't be anyone else. My other siblings don't wake up early on normal days, so that would be an impossible task.
Taking the duster from her, I told her the entire house was dusted, swept, disinfected, the clothes and the dishes were washed, and everything was in an orderly fashion, so she needs to go and rest. Seriously, at this point I was not above the idea of tying her to her bed, but I got an even better idea.
A short call, and I rested on the couch, comfortably knowing my idea will be successful. A bell ding echoed in the silent house. Opening the door and greeting the person with a warm hug, I pulled her in. 'My Grandma!' was here.
Complaining to grandma about her stubborn daughter, i.e., my mom, I sicced grandma on my mom, and so far three hours have passed without me seeing her. Putting the newspaper away, I decided to go and see it for myself.
Entering the dim room, I saw a touching scene. My mom was sleeping peacefully, curled in grandma's arms. It reminded me of mom and I; this was a moment that reminded me my mom is also a daughter of someone. I know but it is hard to see my mom in a role other than mother. Is it true for you too?
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Comments (2)
Very glad to hear you're getting better! I knew you'd recover before your siblings, because as I say, your life seems so healthy while I only ever hear of them sitting around playing computer games. In addition, boys and girls that age do nothing but moan and malinger, so I'd force them out into the fresh air for some wholesome exercise! Your solution to your mother's stubbornness in this story is very clever, while the final scene is beautiful and touching. Having read many of your stories, I too was immediately reminded of your mother and you. It just goes to show, there are some situations in which only another parent can help! (Speaking of mothers, do keep up with the oranges. They're the first thing my own mother would have made sure I ate!) To answer you closing question, I do remember such a time when my mother and grandmother (her mother) were together, and chatting about when my mum was at college. She then said to my grandmother: "And do you know, I am older now that you were then." It's incredible how time flies - I myself am older today than my parents were in many of my childhood memories of them. Yet at the same time, the love between a mother and her children is one thing that doesn't change. Your writing stands as tribute to that!
Yes, our mother definitely has so many different roles other than being our mother!