If there's one woman I deem worthy to receive a gift, it's no other than my mom. Despite my penchant for girly things, she prefers to keep everything simple. During her youth, she was a belle who loved to doll-up.
When my brother and I came, she willingly placed our needs above hers. Apart from running her school and managing our home, taking care of us became her priority that more often than not, she was left with nothing.
She goes crazy when her daughter experiences the I-have-a-closet-full-of-cl
morning drama yet she willingly waits for me outside the fitting room as I try
on seemingly identical clothes.
We used to clash a lot of times. I used to think we didn't jive well because apart from our indispensable differences, I was a self-confessed "la fille a papa" (dad's girl).
At times, she cannot completely understand my thinking yet she remains as my number one supporter. Her constant presence in my life is the reason why I was able to reach my childhood wishes. Indeed, she's a full-time fairy who never fails to lift up my spirit.
She is likewise my personal 911. She doesn't mind if you call her for help even if it’s in the ungodly hour of the morning. She always stands up for me. The soft-spoken girl in me can't help but draw strength from someone like her.
She might be thirty-five years ahead of me and my world might not appeal to her that much but God knows how she tries so hard to catch up with me each day. Needless to say, I cannot contain my pride for having a mom who's brimming with ceaseless love and understanding.