My Mom, Not Yours

Some things we cannot escape from. One that's catching up with me is the recognition of a big part of you in myself. The way we beat around the bush, our talkative ways, our overwhelmingly rapid speech and our kalut traits; we are more alike than I have ever realized. It took me about 19 years to see that I am this extrovert girl, speaking more than I should (though not all the time a good idea), because of you Ma.

Despite the shortcomings it may bring, I am still proud to have been bred as assertive as I am now. There are so many things I could never have done and accomplished had I not been able to speak and write as I do now. The books you taught me to read and love, the places in old Kuala Lumpur you made me see, the independence you gave me to roam about with public transportation (long before anybody else's parents gave in); for all those I thank you for.

Your penchant for winning competitions and knack for writing stellar slogans amaze me like no other. I am truly happy that you are getting back in the game of speaking out to the public and writing letters that matter, and will support you in any way that I can. Though I grumble at your requests for Obama newspapers/memorabilia, there's a huge part of me that admires your worldly concerns and the fact that you are not like anybody's mother.

Abang, Kaklong and I may have had our fair share of emotional fights and tongue lashes with you, (and God will burn us in hell for that); but I do want to assure you that we never once truly, really, deeply meant all the words we've uttered. Abang throws his tantrums because he cares, Kaklong and I sometimes take a step back because we are void, empty children. We tease because we are playing with this game called "ego and love", yet we get frustrated because we just want you to move on and be happy. We may cringe at your actions, but we are just concerned. It may have been the circumstances we live in that make you you, and us, your children, us; but we are still family and we love you despite all the showdowns the family has seen.

It may sound very disturbing to some that we are never a family of I love you-s. "Take care"-s, "Keep safe"-s and embarrassed "Love, Nj"-s or "Love, Ma"-s in greeting cards are the closest we'll get to uttering those three words. And this is the closest to an I love you I will ever say, Ma. Because my mom, she's just not yours (yes, yours, readers), and that makes her special.

Happy birthday, Ma.
(January 15, 2009)


Your "Princess" signs off now,
Nj/Adik/Nima