mother: a hidden hero

Dear Mum

After all these years together, can you believe that here is still something I've never told you:

I understand.

I understand why you couldn't always buy me McDonald's on the way home from school, even on pay day.

I understand why you never gave me a phone until I was thirteen even though everyone else did.

I understand why sometimes I had to wait for toys and gadgets, and why you would still be paying for it months after I'd got it.

I understand why you wanted me home straight after school, and not a minute later.

I understand why my education was so important to you, why it was worth me sacrificing some teenage fun.

I understand why you made me hold your hand to cross the road, why you made me look left and right and then left again just to be sure.

I understand why you never dated anyone after you and Dad separated, why you went to sleep alone for most of my life.

I understand why I never saw you cry, not even when I slammed the door in your face and screamed that I hated you.

I understand why you will give me the last ten pounds you have, even if it means you walk to work for the rest of the week.

I understand why you answer all my calls on the first ring, why you want to see my face everyday.

I understand why you squeeze me in your arms after not seeing me for a long time.

And I'm glad I didn't have to lose you to realise how much you do for me. I am glad that I can call you now and confess that I am grateful, thankful, lucky and every word in between to have a mother as strong as you.

I'm glad that I can confess now that I took you for granted. That I took all the love and forgiveness and patience for granted. We had so many secrets from each other when I was younger - and now, I am happy to say we have none. You know the worst things about me, and are proudest of all the good. You know that I lied to you about visiting a friend when I was really with a boy; you know that I pushed Toya over when were little and hid when she started crying; you know that I took out a high interest loan just to buy the latest phone and even helped me pay the interest; you know that I can be lazy and unmotivated, that sometimes I talk too loud and laugh awkwardly and sit with a slouch; that I can be a bit of a know-it-all; that I can be pushy and overbearing; most of all, you know that I'll never be perfect, but still choose to believe that I can be.

And another thing that perhaps I have forgotten to tell you – you are the kind of mother I hope to someday be. A mother who thinks of her children before anyone else. A mother who provides warmth and security and stability. A mother who defies all odds stacked against her. A mother who encourages and sees all the beautiful things in her kids. A mother who is at every music practice, every swim meet, every bake sale, every school play. A mother who manages to scold and discipline without ever diminishing the love others have for her. A mother who is free, and lively, and silly, and clumsy, who kisses sloppily and hugs without abandon. But most of all, from you I have learnt that I want to be a mother who loves the way a child deserves to be loved.

Yours truly,

a loving daughter.