143 Mama.. Does it stand for I Love You Mama or the date of her birthday? BOTH. It’s already the 14th of March in Brunei which means it’s my Mama’s birthday weeee woo weeee woooooo!
I love my mom, honestly I do. Truthfully said, I am definitely not the best daughter in the world. I argue back, I talk back and I’ve given countless amounts of eye rolls to my mom. Yet it’s crazy to still have someone who goes back to you as if you’ve never hurt them before. I’m not saying I’m the worst daughter either, I just don’t play the role of being a ‘perfect’ daughter.
Growing up, Ive learned that my mom is an emotional person but she picks and chooses to show that side of her. Sometimes you won’t even know that she’s upset. She covers her feelings with silence and to be honest, it hurts me to know that. You can be very oblivious to how you make her feel, and she’ll still talk to you as if it’s nothing. I make mistakes all the time, yet I’m still in awe how she can still cope with me.
You know, there are some people who hold grudges when you’ve made mistakes, or they’d recall them back and at times prefers to see you by your flaws and they choose to see you that way as a whole person? yeah that bums me out, kinda pulls me down from being able to move forward. I’ll admit I have my flaws, in fact, I have too many flaws. I screw things up too often and sometimes I can’t fix them and most times I question how can someone still even love me tbh, like I’m such an awful person. A disgrace, even.
But my mom shows me otherwise. That’s the kind of person you need, the one who looks at you with love and treats you like you’ve been the best person. She’s so forgiving but also, full of faith. Pure ones.
So no, I am not a perfect daughter. I’m still learning to be one and I know my mom is also learning how to be a mother too. Mothers are human too for god’s sake, they’re bound to make mistakes, they’re bound to have flaws but I know all mothers are trying their best to reach their children’s needs, thinking “Am I doing the right thing?”, “Do they hate me”, “Is this correct?”, “What am I doing wrong here”
Mama isn’t really the type who expresses those touchy feeling emotions in an obvious way, because like I’ve mentioned earlier, she picks and chooses to show certain emotions that she’s feeling. I remember the last few hours of her in Wolverhampton, we were in a cab and she wanted to sit next to me, she was giving me her typical reminders of fixing my hair whenever I let my hair down because she hates it if it’s messy, and she was also complaining that I always carry a heavy backpack with me. However, the moment we stood outside my place for the last time before she had to leave UK, she watched me getting all the luggages from the trunk in silence, probably getting all worried and thinking “barat jua tu”, but I remember her hugging me and crying and saying countless phrases of “Sayang anak mama ani”
I AM CRYING JUST TYPING THAT SENTENCE OUT OMG. OK. HOLD ON.
Anyway, Some might think that I may be talking about her as an ‘act’ of perasan close, but to be real with you, I’ve always been closed with her in our own way.
Ever since I’ve been living abroad, the connection and bond between the both of us keeps getting stronger to the point that I’d turn to her if I wanted to just look at someone and cry, but it really breaks me to see and hear her cry in response to feeling worried about me.
I was really homesick last week (and the week before and the week before that and again, the week before that….pretty much ever since I left Brunei but ok), and I gave her a call, didn’t say anything to her yet but she was already bursting into tears because out of all people, she knew exactly how I felt. It wasn’t just ‘homesickness’ in general, it was crazy how much she put herself in my situation and felt the pain that I felt of being away from home and feeling terribly lonely.
At that moment, I knew that all these times, one of the few people who truly understands me is my mom. I started telling her about my flaws, I told her about what I think I can’t do, I told her I’m weak at trying to feel stronger or face certain challenges. I told her the person I am. The moment she cried, that feeling of just wanting to go home and tell her, Ma. I’m sorry if I’ve ever hurt you, because who the hell can beat and top a love larger than a mother’s love? no one. No. one.
I miss her knocking my door because she wants to know if she looks okay, or if her make up is alright, or if her blush is too pink or even wanting to borrow some of my things. I miss the times when she needed me to help decide what to wear and which tudung is going to match with which outfit. I’m kinda regretting the times that I rejected her offer to come and jog with her and that I continued to sleep instead. Also regretting the times that I told her that I’d go out with her for breakfast and running errands but then overslept instead.
I love seeing her face. I love her cute smile and cute cheeks. I love everything about her. I love that she thinks she’s funny, which makes her 10 times funnier. I love every video calls just between the both of us. I love that she wants to know about what’s going on, everything. I love that phrase she used 2 months ago; “If you have any problem, Tell Mama. Don’t the’ Babah. Tell Mama”. Hazwan was on a FaceTime call and started laughing when he heard her saying that on speaker. She’s cute. It’s also wonderful when she tries to ask about my relationship, and I’m telling you, the moment you tell her “Ma, Lawa jua mama” She’ll give you the cutest smile.
To many more video calls whilst i’m here and more milo-ping-nasi-ayam dates when I’m back. I love you Ma.
Also people, sorry I haven’t continued writing on the final part of my winter break with Hazwan, specifically the one in Brighton.. 😦 I’ve been busy with assignments but I’ll try my best to get that up soon. However, I’m always, always aaaalways pleased and thankful to notice that a lot of you actually read my blogs when I’ve only mention to 3-4 people about this. But I love that and I appreciate all those who had taken their time to read my blog. I gotta go now and call my mom so see you later, alligator!