MyStory

My hero? Clear as the day, my hero is my dear old mum.

It's not that I need saving either. My life is in a perfect order, well thank you. Bosom friends, books, laptop, food, annual holidays, you name it, I have it. Sometimes I ponder over whether all these life's little pleasures evolved because of my equally competent and lovable dad or was it because of my mum that all that I hold dear exist.My mum is a full-time housewife you see, so by logic all our household expenses are contributed by my dad. So why do I even doubt the existence of these things?

Likened to an unpolished diamond, things in life are usually not exposed to their full potential. If things in my life are diamonds, my mother would be the gem polisher. Radiance glows every where she goes. She leaves a trail of brilliance in my life and I have to grudgingly admit that even when I am in the worst of moods. She takes pride in everything she does for herself and the family. Home-cooked meals, though sometimes not cooked to perfection, are painstakingly done with pride and love.

I knows she does because her eyes glitter with affection on occasions that I beam wih joy after gorging myself on the dish she created. I could tell that she isn't surprised at my contentment though, she would always have this knowing look somewhere, waves of excitement radiating from her before every of such “surprise” meals. I think is her intense observation in what I like that lead me on life's winding path with ease and care.

I have a vague impression that I was a very stubborn and unwilling kid when I was in my childhood years. I must have been a total terror, I reflected whenever I have the chance to watch one of our old family videos. It happened as if in slow motion- the plastic bottle roughly pushed sway from my puckering lips, eyes squeezed shut as my mum tried to no avail to persuade me to take another sip of the milk.Bottle tipped in the most alraming manner, tilting in a severe angle before...THUD! Milk pooled on the floor and dotted like huge white specks on my flushed face. This occured in almost every video, till I filled with guilt with the trouble I posed to my parents when I was young.

Every step I take is a risky business. Say the wrong word during a mild argument and good luck to me trying to end it. Launching into a furious tirade, my once considerable reasons would cease to exist. Every futile bid to ensure my self-righteousness would fail miserably. I once thought she takes pleasure in my silent weeping in some dark corner of my room, but as I grow older, I detect an emotion not regret, but a kind of heartwrenching pain in her after each harsh punishment. Those moments were the ones I dreaded most, however hard I tried to avoid such situations, they manage to crop up in the most unfortunate moments.

I correct my previous statement that I do not need saving. Well, not at the moment, but definately many times previously when I am lost and alone, when things do not turn out right, when many mistakes that would change the later part of my life would be made if there was no proper guidance.

With all this, I declare my mum my hero and yes, I might just need saving next time!