Mummy's boy.

FOr my dear mum.

I have a topsy turvy relationship with my mum since young. She is not the most affectionate of mothers, and I am not the easiest of sons to handle. Having a no nonsense virgo guardian reining in a temperamental aries boy, there's bound to be sparks for nasty confrontations. We have our fights, we have our peace, but we have love for each other too and I am glad we are family.

Being her first kid, it must have very testing and experimental for my mum to raise me. There were no prior experiences to rely on, everything was hands-on and the learning curve was steep. Our parents try to teach us the way their parents teach them. Her dad (which I have never met), have been a significant figure in her learning years. From the little bits I gathered, granddaddy was a morally-conscious, sensibly-driven man. He was a strict and loving father, and he had brought up my mother well. Mum have such stauch standings on conduct, enthics and morality, I believe she was a tough magistrate in her previous life. But as 'vicious' as life can be, she have this little devil (me) as a son to test her resolve. How many times she actually comtemplate slaughtering me before...I dunno, but I think I have sober up enough to stop incurring her warth.

I see parts of my Dad and her in me, characteristically-speaking. Without dwelling too much on the old man, he is not exactly the best role model, though very much a loving dad too. Mum was the disciplinarian, Mum was the cane-wielder, Mum was the 'bad' parent at home. She corrected undesirable traits, enforced rules, taught respect, humility and grace, and demonstrated morally-upright attributes. She was Judge Dread. I can't remember the amount of spankings I got or her choices of tools to inflicit 'teachings' on me, but I swear the marks she left, had me looking like a zebra sometimes. I hated her so much then, I can't wait to remonstrate my displeasure. I think when I slapped her at 15, I must have broken her heart.

I was pretty much left alone, as I spiraled out of control. Those delinquent years, have the worse strains on our relationship. We stopped talking, she wanted me out of the house and I wanted her dead. Maybe Mum was fighting another war with Dad, as I fought mine on the streets...we grew apart and eventually saw lesser of each other. I wasn't very bothered then, she was 'only' a mother. I had my 'brothers', my fun, my life outside. I was running away from the storm brewing at home, perhaps she was too lost in the storm to care anymore. The family had broken, everyone was distant and we became strangers.

I realised my love for Mum when she committed suicide on one Chinese New Year's eve. The fact that I could have lose her that night jolted me out of my nonchalance towards the family. I am the eldest brother, I am the eldest son and I have to take responsibilty for my siblings and household. No more running away. Being there for my younger sister and youngest brother, I finally felt how it was like to be 'strong' in the midst of a family crisis, cos I was not. I cannot buckle, I cannot cry...just like how Mum never waiver in our presence. She must have had her reasons, her pain and unhappiness. I didn't understand before, I dun wanna understand after. I understood all that night. Mum is not all that tough, she is no Judge Dread. Mum is only trying her best to be a good mum.

Today, I have the good fortune to be living together with Mum again. Once in awhile, my siblings will come over for small gatherings too. Dad is fine and hopefully well where he is now. The tough times are over, and the kids are all older now. Having Mum by my side, I can always whine and behave like a spoilt brat. Funny how I hated having Mum hovering over me, yet crave for her loving and care as I aged. I think every man, no matter how unwilling to admit, loves to be pampered and loved by a woman. Until they find someone special as a partner, Mum will reprise this role over and over again, without a whimper. That's how all Mums are, I think.

I ate dinner with her yesterday on Mother's Day. Just a simple dinner, nothing fancy. She is happy and I am happy she is. For if I can be a good son to my Mum, everyday will be a happy day for her. As much as I am a mummy's boy, she is this boy's mummy too! I can never imagine saying this to her, you know..getting all mushy and lovey with my Mum. But yea...~shiver~

..I love you, Mum. Heh.