When you refused to leave me home alone, assisted me hold my ice cream cone,

Watched me so I didn't choke on candies that were hard

Pulled me back so I wouldn't cut myself on a stray shard,

At five, dear mother, I whined for there was no danger, no adventure, when I was with you


When you refused to give me the knife cause I was inept, or checked on me to make sure I slept

Told me I was too young for a slumber party

At seven, I sulked,dear mother, for I felt like I had grown up enough, and the only one stopping me was you


If the breakfast didn't suit my taste, every time you didn't agree going to school was a waste

At ten, I pouted, for the only one I felt free to blame was you


When I spent endless evenings at practice, learnt that chasing dreams wasn't always bliss

Even though all you told me was that you believed I could make it, I assumed you didn't know my pain since you never let me quit

At thirteen , I vented out my frustrations at you


Everytime time you made me clean my room, told me to be responsible, or worse pick up the broom

Prune the garden that I never cared for

At fifteen, I complained, for I thought I'd be just fine even if it weren't for you...


You never failed to call me to make sure I was okay when I was out late, waited for me at the gate

Ever made your presence known, said you would be around even when I insisted to be alone


At seventeen, I fought, for I believed I had forever to make up with you..

Now, when sucking on candies as hard as stone, haphazardly crossing streets alone,

On well deserved holidays, while tying my shoelace or sipping homemade oreo milkshakes,

Watching flowers in full bloom or even walking into a clean room

At twenty I smile, for they are but all the memories I have of you...


Now as I plaster a fake smile, knowing that you'd have sensed it from a mile

When I realize I might not have been able to do the same when it comes to you

I wish once again, that I'd told you just much your love meant,

How much I enjoyed the time we spent

During the twenty years, dear mother, I had with you...

One_too_many_words Where stories live. Discover now