My mother is the most important person in my life. I have been mentioning her in almost all of the essays I write. The problem is, I cannot really express how I feel about her in just words. My mother is not my whole life, but she is a really big part of it. My whole world does not only revolve around her, but she is the most influential person who inspires me. My mother is not just another woman. She is extraordinary.
I have known her for sixteen years, three months, one day and nineteen hours. I know her very well, and I had learned to love her since the day we first met. Relatives always tell me stories about my birth. They tell me how important I was to my mom. I was the foundation of her joy, strength, peace and love. She has never lied to me about my father. I do not remember asking about him. Ever since, I already knew he was in a better place. I do not remember my mom having a hard time explaining to me my situation â€“ having no father. She was always straightforward. She explained things very simply, like she knew everything. I thank her for being simple. I thank her for telling me the truth, so that I did not need to believe a lie that would have made things â€˜easierâ€™ for me. When in fact, not knowing the truth would have made things complicated.
She has taught me all I need to know to live life as a sixteen-year old teenage girl. She taught me how to feel. Well, she did not only do that. She showed me how to handle these feelings of anger, fear, guilt, joy, sadness, excitement, hate and anxiety. She also showed me how to give and take. I learned from her that giving is a lot harder than taking, but the former is much more satisfying when it is done. She told me that giving makes one happy. I am sure she is right because half of her life, she has been giving me what I need, and in spite of all that years of giving, she is happy. Though very slowly, I am learning how to give freely. Little by little