Dear Mama/Momma/Mamila/Mamily/Mom,
Online Users
I feel like tearing up and I haven’t even completed a
sentence of this letter. Now there’s lump in my throat. What can I possibly
begin to say to you in a letter?
You have been through so much during your life. You have sacrificed a lot to be where you are now and I envy you for the entirety of your being. There were times when I couldn’t understand some of your opinions and vice versa. As a mother, it must be hard for you when you have your child and your beliefs clash with each other. I don’t know what you think.. I am at peace just by knowing you love me and want me to be happy.
I envy your faith and baking skills (I keep forgetting to ask you for your infamous apple and carrot cake recipes)!
I love how we sometimes have Skype conversations that are primarily supposed to be 10-15 minutes long but instead end up lasting at least an hour; I love the directions you give me and the way in which you give off a vibe of “seriousness” whenever I ask you how to cook a particular food on Skype or when we’re together.
I love how during special occasions when we’re all together you get emotional during a toast; I love how we sleep in the same bed on the first night we see each other after months of being apart or before I travel back to the UK and how we hold hands and sometimes talk until we’re too sleepy to continue.
I love how you refuse to allow me to come home with the bus from the airport even though I don’t really mind.
I love how passionate you are about gardening and have a taste in floral patterns for certain items such as mugs, table cloths, towels, clothes and paintings.
I love it when you hug me and “let go”; I love how you weren’t and are still not hesitant to cry in front of me for fear of appearing weak in my eyes because you’re “supposed to be the parent, the strong one” – and you are so so strong, Mama, you have no idea.
I love how you treat your children’s friends as if they were your own children; I love how you manage to say something in a serious tone while expressing genuineconcern for some of the habits of students in the UK (e.g. “Why don’t they wear socks with their shoes?” or “Doesn’t this boy have a mother?” – when a boy was wearing Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt in freezing weather) but it sounds hilarious!
I love the fact that we’ve given your smell a nickname (‘Mamila’) – it’s a mixture of perfume and soap. Speaking of soap, ‘Clean On Me’ shower gel probably is getting most of its’ profit from you.
Mama, you sweet, beautiful, chic woman you; you’re loving, patient, supportive and selfless and we are forever grateful to you for this.
You have been through so much during your life. You have sacrificed a lot to be where you are now and I envy you for the entirety of your being. There were times when I couldn’t understand some of your opinions and vice versa. As a mother, it must be hard for you when you have your child and your beliefs clash with each other. I don’t know what you think.. I am at peace just by knowing you love me and want me to be happy.
I envy your faith and baking skills (I keep forgetting to ask you for your infamous apple and carrot cake recipes)!
I love how we sometimes have Skype conversations that are primarily supposed to be 10-15 minutes long but instead end up lasting at least an hour; I love the directions you give me and the way in which you give off a vibe of “seriousness” whenever I ask you how to cook a particular food on Skype or when we’re together.
I love how during special occasions when we’re all together you get emotional during a toast; I love how we sleep in the same bed on the first night we see each other after months of being apart or before I travel back to the UK and how we hold hands and sometimes talk until we’re too sleepy to continue.
I love how you refuse to allow me to come home with the bus from the airport even though I don’t really mind.
I love how passionate you are about gardening and have a taste in floral patterns for certain items such as mugs, table cloths, towels, clothes and paintings.
I love it when you hug me and “let go”; I love how you weren’t and are still not hesitant to cry in front of me for fear of appearing weak in my eyes because you’re “supposed to be the parent, the strong one” – and you are so so strong, Mama, you have no idea.
I love how you treat your children’s friends as if they were your own children; I love how you manage to say something in a serious tone while expressing genuineconcern for some of the habits of students in the UK (e.g. “Why don’t they wear socks with their shoes?” or “Doesn’t this boy have a mother?” – when a boy was wearing Bermuda shorts and a t-shirt in freezing weather) but it sounds hilarious!
I love the fact that we’ve given your smell a nickname (‘Mamila’) – it’s a mixture of perfume and soap. Speaking of soap, ‘Clean On Me’ shower gel probably is getting most of its’ profit from you.
Mama, you sweet, beautiful, chic woman you; you’re loving, patient, supportive and selfless and we are forever grateful to you for this.
I love you, darling.
Marilena
Marilena
Online Users
Δεν υπάρχουν σχόλια:
Δημοσίευση σχολίου