a love letter to amma.
The day of my 11th grade midterms, I opened my lunch bag to find a pink post-it with gravy stained fingerprints that read, “don’t stress, you make me a proud mom, don’t forget that okay?” What I did not know then, was that it wasn’t a one time gesture to calm my irrational nerves, every morning since, my lunch bag was not only lined with aluminium, but also post its lined with pencil drawn hearts and uppercase words of affirmation. Just because I came back home that day and said, “Amma, I loved your note”, I got one everyday since. Now, one of my most valuable possessions is the yakult stained stack of crumpled paper that I keep stapled in my drawer.
Growing up in a single parent home, my mom was there at every PTA meeting, every sports day, packed every lunch, never missed a single dinner; though this may be the norm or what is expected of a parent to everyone else, it was my mom’s superpower, she made abnormal seem normal. She made sure that over the last 4 years my dad’s passing almost only meant that we celebrated one birthday less than we normally do. My mom cared more for compensating our loss than she ever did for her own grief and never gave my sister and I any room to use our ‘raised by a single-parent’ status as a crutch. The effort she took was not ordinary, the weight she accepted was unfair, yet she unhesitatingly assumed a responsibility that is designated by nature to be shared by two people, not one. And that made her, my wonder woman.
Her resilience taught me how to always persevere not “because” but “despite”. In a country that succumbs to ‘cultural fantasies’ where single-parent homes are still stigmatised, my mom continued to prove ‘despite’ that she could raise us better than any two-parent household. In her selflessness and ability to find strength in the most unexpected and unfortunate circumstances, I understood the pertinence of willpower.
I watch my mom wake up everyday choosing to make the most beautiful mosaic from the remnants of what she once was, superglued together by her choice to persevere not for herself but for my sister and I. I am the person I am today because she gave up who she was to live for us. She made the choice to survive so that we could thrive and gave us her everything with the expectation of nothing in return.
Her efforts that often seem to be lost in translation made the biggest difference in reinforcing not only my strong mindedness but my self-worth and potential. My family gave me not only the resources to redefine the boundaries of what I can achieve but the the very incentive to always strive to become a better person than I was yesterday. She nurtured an environment where I could truly be anything I wanted to be. My mom made sure and still fights to ensure that I have the platform to make my own opportunities, a liberty that she had sacrificed for me to actualise. She promised stability despite the most unstable circumstances. No matter how much she falls or how hard the fall is, she is never, not once dissuaded. That is what makes my mom, my knight in shining armour, my superhero, my everything.
Thank you amma. Thank you for every choice you made. Thank you for every choice you continue to make. I will never stop looking for your hand to hold wherever and whenever, always and forever.
