When I was younger, I somehow knew I had to capture this image of my mum and I together. I would go back to every time I hugged her, or rather, she hugged me, and try to remember it vividly in my head. I never could, because there was always a new one.
I could never remember how she managed to break the bad news in my life to me. I never knew just how 'tough' I supposedly had it. It never felt that way for me. Life was never difficult. So many people have come up to me and said that "Your life is so hard, how do you do it?" Do what? I supposedly had it tough since I was young. My mom was single after my own dad left her. I was a baby, I didn't know better. Along with my grandparents, her parents, she had to raise me alone for a while. She was a working single mother. She was still my mother. As a kid, I never felt like I was missing anything. As a one-year-old kid, I honestly thought I had the world. I couldn't have asked for more love in my life. Well, I was only one. It's true though, my parents divorced. My dad left but was still part of my life. I do believe he loves me, up to this day. My mum ultimately had full custody of me. I think that was a no-brainer. So, God gave me to her, and I'm pretty sure it was for good reason. At one point in my life, I would've believed people if they told me I wasn't meant to be here. That I was an 'accident baby'. I don't believe that now. I assure you I don't. I never knew why I was so blessed with such a great mother though. If any of my past indicates anything, I certainly haven't done much worthy of her.
On December 16th 1997, my mum married my now stepfather. Who I'd rather refer to as my father. I was 2-years-old. I don't think she got married just for me. She honestly fell in love, with the right man this time, I believe. What other reason would she have to marry someone 18 years older than her? Many of my friends are still shocked when I tell them the age difference between my parents. Growing up with a stepfather was not easy. And when my sister came along 2 years later, things didn't get any easier. I had my own kind of 'Cinderella Story' I guess. But it wasn't as bad as I thought it was back then. Back then, all I saw was the bad. From the ages 4 to 12, I never knew exactly just how to be grateful. All I focused on then was how my father favored my sister over me. Which I can tell you, and he can tell you too, was true. I remember every hurtful thing he said to me if I were to do something wrong. I remember him only ever tucking my sister in at night and kissing only her goodnight. The way he loved her, was different from the way he loved me. This is a little hard to explain.
My mother on the other hand, was my own personal angel. She always knew how I felt. She knew. She cried when I cried. She held me when I was kicking and screaming. She never left me alone when I said I wanted to be left alone. She said "I will love you enough for the both of us." She never said she loved me more, she made it clear she loved both my sister and I equally. But only I needed to hear those words. I always felt I needed the extra love from her, and I selfishly got it. Later on, I found out from my relatives that she was loving me more. She was favoring me despite my flaws and imperfections. I just couldn't see it. They saw it very clearly.
My mum knew me way too well. From the clothes I liked to wear, to what I loved to eat. My mum was always multi-talented. She baked, cooked, gardened, crostitched, crocheted, played the piano/organ, did ballet, sang (in church choir)... Her talents kinda got split between my sister and I. It's pretty amazing to inherit even just one of her talents, because I honestly think she was great at all of the above. She studied hotel management after high school. Got her degree and all that. When I was about 7 to 10 years old, she started teaching tuition. First the young ones, by the Smart Readers program, then she went on to teach Primary school English and BM. No wonder I like language subjects, right? She mostly focused on teaching English. But she only taught while we lived in Sabah. Yeap, did I forget to mention we moved a lot as a family? When I was four and a half, we moved to Tawau, Sabah. At age 11, we moved to Kota Kinabalu, Sabah. When I was 13, we moved back here. My mum was born in Penang by the way. The rest of us are just plain KL born.
All the moves were work related, until that last one. The last one came unexpected. I had already started Form 1, got my braces on the first day of school and everything. One month into school, I had Sports Day. When my dad came to pick me up, it was the first time I ever saw him cry. Since then, I've seen him cry numerous amount of times. Believe me, my dad is a real man. My mom's checkup went unexpected, that's why our move was unexpected. The cancer was unexpected. I think I took it well. And that went against my favor because I think that was the exact moment I was named the strongest girl ever by the people around me. I did not cry. I couldn't, but I would cry alone. When I was 100% no one was around. What I was good at was pretending. I acted exactly how she wanted me to. Like nothing was really wrong. Maybe I shouldn't have. This was more hardship in my life. And still, I could never see it that way. Cause my mom was still with me. I couldn't see what everyone else around me was seeing.
I lived a regular teenage life. I basically went through the same motions and emotions as every other teenager. Getting involved with the popular crowd in school. Trying my best to look pretty, to stand out. I also tried hard in school. Kissing up to my teachers, trying to please my friends in all that I did. I wanted to be good at everything. I eventually learnt I couldn't do that.
I was a lazy kid. One of my worst qualities. I am still pretty lazy actually. My mom loved me all the same. When I was rebellious, when I first got involved with a boy. (Yeah, I went there.) She never judged me. We went shopping together. We watched movies in our own living room. We watched our favorite TV series, ie: 7th Heaven. When her body started failing her, she would hold on to my arm. She then had to use a walker, and then a wheelchair. Still, we went shopping. We even watched a movie at the cinema. Our very last movie together at the cinema was the "Hannah Montana Movie". It meant a lot to me. It meant a lot to us. The song "The Climb" was one of my mum's favorites after the show. I even had the pleasure of singing it to her at the hospital with my sister. She did wind up in the hospital a few times. When she fell down, when her breathing was inconsistent. I would always be in school, being a normal teenager. I'd visit her when my family members allowed me to. She was eventually bedridden.I started to realize that I wasn't being treated the same anymore. Sure, some people would show me more compassion and pity, but others treated me as if I were an adult. I was 13, 14, 15-years-old! Far from being an adult. But I apparently handled myself properly. It wasn't just cause I didn't cry, it was because I was coping in school. Getting average grades, doing well in Koku. And at home, all this was happening. What people didn't know was, I handled myself worst at home. I still had the nerve to answer back to my parents, watch too much TV, spent way too little time with my mom. I could be called a terrible daughter at this point, but I had no idea why God gave me so many chances to redeem myself. I would always have these moments of longing for my mother. That's when I'd climb into her bed, and have her hold me. Or sometimes, just stroke my hair. I loved that.
Towards the end of it all, she made videos of herself telling us exactly what we needed to hear. Even with her cancer changing her appearance, she was still so beautiful. I feel honored every time someone tells me I resemble my mother. I cannot take it and start crying on the inside. I cry real tears when I'm alone. She was so beautiful. True beauty was exactly what my mother was. She prayed to God that she'd be alive to see me through my PMR, and I'd always be selfish and ask that she be at my wedding. Meet her first grandchild. I told her to walk me down the aisle, help me name my first child. Yeah, I like to think far into the future. But God granted her prayer. She saw me through my PMR, and then she left. During the last few days we all knew was critical, I was busy preparing for a talent competition in my school. I told you, I was being a normal teenager. The day she passed away, I was at a friend's house. Rehearsing. The next day was my competition and last day of school. I went. We got 2nd place. It didn't matter. Because I was singing for her, only and always for her. My voice is a gift from God, I know that. So was hers. As a kid who thought the world of her mother, I always hoped that I could sing like her one day, and now I try my best to. That was the talent I was blessed enough to inherit from my mother. On her last birthday alive, I sang her a song I wrote. Last year on her birthday, I sang her favourite Carrie Underwood song at SFX Got Talent "Don't Forget To Remember Me". She was always afraid of being forgotten, how could she ever be, I always said to her. This year, I visited her at Nilai Cemetery. I still sing to her every time I have a chance to perform in front of people, and when a melody starts to form around my words, I'll think of her beautiful voice.I didn't have much time with my mother. But some of you here still do. I'd give anything to still have that. I don't want to make you feel guilty in any way. If anyone were to feel guilt, it'd be me. I was far from the perfect daughter, and my mother knew she wasn't perfect either. But thinking back now, I can't seem to find one thing she did wrong while raising me. I know I can't be perfect, but I pray to God someday I'll be half the mother she was. I always say to myself how unfair it is to others that the best mother in the world was given to me, but I was wrong in saying so. My mother was my mother. Your mother is yours. My mother gave me everything, taught me everything. Loved me as her everything. She became my everything. Your mother should be the same for you. So, as I see my mother as my superhero and angel, so is your mother to you. She will always be your angel. Watching out for you as my mother is watching over me. Holding you while my mother is holding me from above. Loving you with all her heart, the same way my mother has never stopped loving me since the day I was born.


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