Point You to the Mirror
Arguments that out-heated the sun’s flares. My mom and I exchanged words that never should have left our mouths. Like an informal debate which originated from I don’t remember which nonsensical reason it was. All I remember was the feeling of having had enough. I always pointed my finger at her when things go haywire within the family.
I blamed her for our situation. For the things that she did and did not do. I cannot fathom at the time what emotion it was that had my chest in shambles—my intestines in knots. Her debts became something that I too had to worry about. My siblings’ immature behavior that I kept on criticizing to my mother and would criticize her for not doing anything about them. Saying things like, “I wasn’t anything like that when I was their age” as justification for my maturity. I blamed her because we did not have a dad. There have been many dad-figures in my life. But I still could not help but imagine what it would feel like to have one.
It felt like the walls around me were slowly compressing an inch towards me by the day. There is in me a faint hope that a miracle would be bestowed upon this household and that I would just wake up in comfort without having to worry about anything. In the end it was nothing but a pipedream. Right there and then I knew. I bore hatred towards my mother.
It wasn’t soon enough that I hated myself as well. For I realized I was becoming much just like her. Or maybe it is the fear of me being wrong all along? That I didn’t become anything.
That maybe all of this was just part of the human process called life and that I am no better than my mother who, just like everyone else, is going through the same problems any single mother might have. Yes, this was it. I was sincere with my emotions so much that it clouded my better judgment. All “maturity” and logical thinking went down the drain like noodles. I was scared for the truth that all I might be is sincerely wrong.
I hated her for being human, which was the result of my inhumanity. I projected the pressure of having family problems onto her. But it was none other than a futile attempt to make myself feel better about my family’s unfortunate circumstance.
My selfishness aroused unreasonable actions and indifference towards her. And it was this event in my life that made me grow out of my childishness and see her in a different light. I used to vow never to become anything like her. Only to find myself wishing I would be able to hold a candle next to her tenacity and perseverance she dedicated to her family.