Dear You,
There's still nine minutes left 'till the clock strikes twelve while I'm typing this.
A while ago, I sat down & dug out an extremely old picture of Ammi with her three kids, when she had only three kids. There were three kids smiling at me from the picture; two girls and a boy. I realized that none of them was here with me in my home; their home. I then pretended to yawn so nobody would notice.
The thing is, when I sat down with a blank sheet and a million other things to decorate a card, I couldn't think of anything to write. What do you say to a person who has practically made you what you are today? The person you take for granted every day, while she nags you to drink your milk and forces a piece of bread in your mouth when you're just about to leave for college.
Well, the paper ended up getting wet, so I went and got another one and scribbled down all I could in a mere five lines. If I start crying while I hand it to her, maybe that will explain it all.
There's two minutes left now.
I can't even think of how to explain how I cannot explain how I cannot write a complete letter to Ammi even if I took a whole year.
It's twelve.
And I will now go hide my red eyes elsewhere.
Thanks for listening.
Love,
Me.
There's still nine minutes left 'till the clock strikes twelve while I'm typing this.
A while ago, I sat down & dug out an extremely old picture of Ammi with her three kids, when she had only three kids. There were three kids smiling at me from the picture; two girls and a boy. I realized that none of them was here with me in my home; their home. I then pretended to yawn so nobody would notice.
The thing is, when I sat down with a blank sheet and a million other things to decorate a card, I couldn't think of anything to write. What do you say to a person who has practically made you what you are today? The person you take for granted every day, while she nags you to drink your milk and forces a piece of bread in your mouth when you're just about to leave for college.
Well, the paper ended up getting wet, so I went and got another one and scribbled down all I could in a mere five lines. If I start crying while I hand it to her, maybe that will explain it all.
There's two minutes left now.
I can't even think of how to explain how I cannot explain how I cannot write a complete letter to Ammi even if I took a whole year.
It's twelve.
And I will now go hide my red eyes elsewhere.
Thanks for listening.
Love,
Me.
1 comment:
Dear You,
You do not need to write her a letter. Perhaps she knows you love her or perhaps she doesn't. Cry for her when you pray for her. Ask for her all the joys of this world and the hereafter. But when you see her today, smile. They say you earn Heaven when you put a mere smile upon your mother's face.
The good thing about us? We don't really need words to speak, do we?
Much love,
Me.
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