To My Mom: Words I Don't Say Enough
Today is Mother's Day, and it's a day we think about the strong women that raised us, whether your mom or mom-figure. Each year, I see Facebook and Instagram posts of everyone with the world's best mom and memories that warm my heart.
Well, I'm not really great with saying words and honestly, I suck at telling the people I care most about just how much they mean to me, and that includes my mom. So this year, I'm going to make an even bigger effort, be vulnerable, and tell you about my mom in writing--because I do think I've got the world's best mom.
Let me tell you about her.
My mom is from a small town in rural Philippines. She didn't grow up with much, but the woman she became is one of resilience. She got a full ride for college, left home when she was 16, and has been on her own ever since. When she finished school, she went on to work and always sought out better opportunities to give her kids their best chance.
When I was born, our little family of 4 (Josh came later) lived in a small, concrete house with a toilet that didn't work (I don't even remember it having a toilet seat tbh). We shared one room for the 4 of us, and my parents did everything they could to make our lives better.
When I was 1, my mom left to work overseas to pursue better opportunities, but this meant months without seeing us and missing my second birthday. No, I don't remember this bit of my life, but I couldn't imagine leaving my toddler behind for months (especially in 1998; also, I am not a mom).
We moved away when I was 2 1/2 to a country far away from the country my parents knew because of another job opportunity that could pave the way for a better life. This cycle persisted for a while and honestly, I had a childhood with opportunities most people could only dream of. Now, I'm not saying the constant moving and all the work didn't strain relationships because it did. But I'm older now and I'm better able to understand how those sacrifices gave me the life I have.
To Mom:
I'm absolutely terrible at talking and being vulnerable. I don't like to show weakness. So I hope you accept my writing, as I find my writing to be stronger than my voice. I don't tell you enough how appreciative I am of everything you and dad have done for me. Having a mom like you showed me what it means to be a resilient woman in charge of her own life. I've never felt weighed down to a "womanly" role because those bounds didn't really exist in our family, and that's in part because of you.
I look up to you a lot more than you know. I could never face the same adversities you've faced, whether you're aware of those or not. Know that all those sacrifices you and dad made aren't in vain. Every day I think about how I can do even better, and be better for my future family. How can I protect that resilience and legacy? How can I teach my kids that same lesson?
Mom, I love you, and I know I should say it more. So here's an open and vulnerable letter to you--thank you for everything.
-Joy
Well, I'm not really great with saying words and honestly, I suck at telling the people I care most about just how much they mean to me, and that includes my mom. So this year, I'm going to make an even bigger effort, be vulnerable, and tell you about my mom in writing--because I do think I've got the world's best mom.
Let me tell you about her.
My mom is from a small town in rural Philippines. She didn't grow up with much, but the woman she became is one of resilience. She got a full ride for college, left home when she was 16, and has been on her own ever since. When she finished school, she went on to work and always sought out better opportunities to give her kids their best chance.
When I was born, our little family of 4 (Josh came later) lived in a small, concrete house with a toilet that didn't work (I don't even remember it having a toilet seat tbh). We shared one room for the 4 of us, and my parents did everything they could to make our lives better.
When I was 1, my mom left to work overseas to pursue better opportunities, but this meant months without seeing us and missing my second birthday. No, I don't remember this bit of my life, but I couldn't imagine leaving my toddler behind for months (especially in 1998; also, I am not a mom).
We moved away when I was 2 1/2 to a country far away from the country my parents knew because of another job opportunity that could pave the way for a better life. This cycle persisted for a while and honestly, I had a childhood with opportunities most people could only dream of. Now, I'm not saying the constant moving and all the work didn't strain relationships because it did. But I'm older now and I'm better able to understand how those sacrifices gave me the life I have.
To Mom:
I'm absolutely terrible at talking and being vulnerable. I don't like to show weakness. So I hope you accept my writing, as I find my writing to be stronger than my voice. I don't tell you enough how appreciative I am of everything you and dad have done for me. Having a mom like you showed me what it means to be a resilient woman in charge of her own life. I've never felt weighed down to a "womanly" role because those bounds didn't really exist in our family, and that's in part because of you.
I look up to you a lot more than you know. I could never face the same adversities you've faced, whether you're aware of those or not. Know that all those sacrifices you and dad made aren't in vain. Every day I think about how I can do even better, and be better for my future family. How can I protect that resilience and legacy? How can I teach my kids that same lesson?
Mom, I love you, and I know I should say it more. So here's an open and vulnerable letter to you--thank you for everything.
-Joy
This is a perfect tribute to your mom. ❤️
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