|the truth about love
||[Mar. 28th, 2016|11:23 pm]
my mother told me a story a few days back, ending with how "a mother will always help the child who needs more help." and i went on to tell her, knowingly and fully aware, that it wasn't fair to her other children. taking off the shoes of a mother with endless love for her children, i marched up this moral lesson shielded in full armour of what education has equipped me with: the value of meritocracy. this comes across as apathetic, selfish and self-righteous but i do this with full consciousness, mainly because this will always be something i find difficult to grasp (and hopefully will diminish when/if i become a mother). i told her an individual works hard to reap what he/she should sow and likewise a child works hard and grows up accordingly to please his/her parents. & she replied a mother never wants to see a child suffer and when one suffers more than the other there is an inclination to steer his/her direction to mediate, no matter the age.|
in my childhood years, i remember doing many things to please my parents simply because i wanted their attention. i didn't do it for the extra money or for new phones/cool gadgets (i didn't get them, by the way, my family does not believe in material rewards). growing up as the eldest, i had it subconsciously ingrained in me by myself (i don't think my parents brought me up to make me think as the eldest i should be perfect) that i should be the exemplar for my siblings. this disposition marked me out from my siblings, more significantly it increased the distance between my parents and i: they were confident i was independent enough to grow up on my own, & i thought i would not burden them with trivial matters and leave them for my siblings instead. nonetheless, the rift was what drove me to work hard in everything just to hear a compliment i hardly received because well, they didn't expect that of (or forced it on) me anyway. they simply left me to develop in the way i wanted to, thinking i didn't need their compliments to grow (true, and false). but there was always that attention and affection a child craves, no matter how much she/he hides/hates to admit. & i thought going beyond their standards would remind them i still existed.
childish-teenage-angst aside, we are close now, there is something that sprouts within you like a seedling when you become an adult-child, a kind of maturity that bubbles inside you warmly, a maturity with acceptance for an unexplainable natural order of things: a mother's unending love that caters to all her children, but more so to those in need. it doesn't hit me like a truck, this realization, but again one that comes as my mother paces about the home, doing housework making breakfast making sure she doesn't wake my siblings with all the noise despite it being 11am, and i'm in the kitchen just drinking tea and eating the congee because she remembers me craving for it for "donkey days already". it comes when my mother ends our conversation saying, "i know you're capable. i can see that." and she doesn't know the times i feel fallen and broken, but that's ok. because there's that kind of love that i cannot grasp, a kind of love to remind this world that meritocracy isn't everything, that life is really unfair, but in the most beautiful way possible.
how can you say otherwise when a mother continues to love someone who lets her down time and time again?