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To those who didn’t care exposing one breast in public just to save an infant from hunger;
To those who walked alone naked in the privacy of their rooms feeling the stretch marks, feeling the trace of the C-section stitch, never mind the keloid and regarding them as battle scar;
To those who patiently waited in the wee hours of the morning monitoring a helpless infant preventing possibility of suffocation;
To those enduring hours of labor enduring the fear of their pelvic bones which they feel are about to crack and break, never mind the possibility of the loss of blood;
To those who made kitchen a mess, just to study a recipe that will be good for the health of the family;
To those who befriended calculators balancing checks and the family budget, just so that they won’t be millionaires today, paupers tomorrow;
To those who held their partner’s hand when they got laid off from their jobs or when their careers are not going as well as they had hoped for;
To those who placed their careers on the backseat in order to take care of their spouse’s or partner’s ego;
To those who took care of men when they were simply boyfriends, who created appealing resumes so that they can start a better future;
To those who willingly picked and matched their boyfriend’s tie and pants and made sure they are wearing decent socks for their first job interview;
To those who endured the feeling of finding traces of lipstick in their husband’s shirt, undeclared receipts, hidden expenses, private pictures and yet to chose to turn a blind eye and cry alone in the bathroom in the middle of the night;
To those who manage to get up in the morning even when their personal life is a mess;
To those who do not have time to look into the mirror, not realizing they’ve gained weight, their shirts smell like barf and their hair is an underestimated description of frizz;
To those who watch their teenagers sleep soundly at night while peeking through their bedroom door;
To those doing the laundry, while waiting for the cookies in the oven;
To those who blow up their kids’ inflatables because daddy’s not around;
To those who drive up fast in the highway, running late due to separation anxiety from their kids, talking to boss on speakerphone while putting on lipstick;
To those who sincerely took care of their paralyzed husbands and mentally ill boyfriends;
To those who held back tears when letting go of their first born in college, making sure they have a decent place to live, leaving emergency numbers to call;
To those who manage to kiss their kids after a long dreadful day at work;
To those who don’t keep secrets from their kids when things are no longer working out like they used to;
To those who simply took charge of their lives and instead of living in fury, have chosen to take the high road;
To those who learned to forgive and let go;
I dedicate this post to you.
An entire day of tribute is not enough to thank each and everyone of you.
Because Mother’s Day should be celebrated by, not only mothers, but those who “Mothered” at one point of their lives. Those who acted and felt like Mothers, and to our own mothers who sacrificed pelvic pains, hours of labor and post-partum depression in order to give birth and deliver us alive today.
I would like to thank my own Mother, for putting up with me, all these years, because if not, the world will be missing one little blogger who wishes and hope to become at least half of what her own mother had become, someday.
Happy Mother's Day Inay! <3
