No time for Mom

“Mom, don’t irritate me. Please leave me alone,” I howled. Not once, but umpteen times. She responded by quietly leaving the room and getting on with her daily chores. She wanted a few moments of my valuable time. She wanted to talk to me for a little while. Why would she want to disturb me when I was right in the middle of a very interesting conversation with my friend? I guess because she was a mother and she felt lonely at times. All she wanted at such times was someone to talk to and someone who would listen to her trivial stories. Not because she wanted to give advice or sermonize, but only because she wanted to connect with me on some level. She wanted to laugh at my jokes and tell me her stories in turn.

Like a typical teenager, I frequently avoided her. This discourteous behavior continued even after I entered my twenties. I never wanted to answer her questions and felt more inclined to be by myself in the confines of my room. Although she never understood my need for solitude, she gracefully reserved commenting on it and silently went about doing other things. Eventually, the frequency of her botheration decreased. Whenever she saw me sitting alone, she would just smile at me without uttering a word. Regrettably, I found relief in that.

A few years have passed since then and now I am at a nostalgic stage in my life where I long to sit with her and chat with her for hours. Narrate to her the smallest detail of my day. Share with her ridiculous anecdotes. Just see her beautiful smile. I yearn to see my mother and rest my head on her lap. I long to see the sparkle in her eyes and feel her gentle caressing hand on my forehead.

I shunned her once too often and now I carry a heavy heart filled with agonizing regret. The biggest bane is that all a man can ever do is repent. He can never undo his deeds. I wish I could go back in time and take away all the hurt I caused this beautiful woman. The one who hid my flaws with her grace and cushioned me with her care. She loved me unconditionally and cared for me even more when times were grueling. When the chips were down, her resilient spirit shone brighter and the smile on her face widened. She was a warrior at such times. She put up a brave front and shielded me like a loyal soldier.

Today, I feel an immense need to apologize to her and comfort her. Sit with her for long hours and listen to her. But most of all, I feel the need to thank her. Thank her for never being over-demanding or overbearing. Thank her for never shaming me or making me feel guilty for my behavior. Thank her for just letting me be.

I never realized how deeply I hurt my mother. Her silent spells that seemed like a relief to me then, haunt me now. Her absence has created a vacuum in my life. No matter how often I gave her a cold shoulder, all she ever offered me was warmth and comfort. I miss my mother’s open arms and salute her intrepid spirit. I live in the hope that she forgives me for all my misdoings. Home, I’ve realized is not a place, but a person. And all I long for right now is to be home in the solace of my mother’s protection.

Where’s my mother’s open arms? Where’s my father lion heart? It’s like the Sun’s gone down. Sleeps in the hallowed ground now. With the Autumn’s dry leaves, with the one who never grieves. – Poets of the Fall.

And the song echoes in my head in repeat mode.