The best thing I did of late, is not just taking stock of my faults but coming to the realization that as humans, we're all flawed and that aiming for perfection should never be the goal. So this is the tale of me finally accepting the person I am, to realize that it's ok to be me, and although I should not change the person I am to please others, I could at least try to live a good life through the words of wisdom and example shown by the people who inspire me.
This post is in a more serious tone... or as serious as I could be, I guess... It was one of my pensive mood days, that made me contemplate life... and if I'm doing enough for those around me especially my loved ones, and being the best that I could be around them, and not hurt them by my words and action.
Many of us will never know what it's like to go hungry. To look at a piece of bread and hope that it will last. But there are many out there who know what it's like. And it made me ashamed for the trivial things I worry about while there are people struggling just to have a decent meal.
I know what it's like to struggle. And saying this, I'm in no means making light of the real struggle people are going through now especially those suffering from the effects of the pandemic...
There's nothing I can do to make things better for them... Although I wish I had the means and resources to do so... All I can do is pray every day that things will get better for them... and try to help as much as I'm able to... with the little I can do...
I didn't come from a rich family. My parents worked hard to provide for us, my siblings and I, and although it wasn't easy, my parents always made sure we had enough, even if my mother, I now realized as an adult, sacrificed, by skipping her meals...
She wore shoes that were worn out and almost falling apart and clothes that were frayed... yet never thought of buying something new.... because money was scarce and she wanted to keep what she had for us.
I cannot imagine the love it takes to do that. To say you're full and not hungry, so that the people you love, your children, can eat... To not buy things for yourself, to not see to your comfort and pleasure, because you're thinking of your children.
And my mom has
never changed. Even now, she will still willingly give up her meal if
she sees there's enough food for only one person...
My parents struggled, worked extra hours and extra jobs, to make sure we had a good education and the best life they could provide for us... They filled our home with books and good meals...
It could be just a simple dish, nothing too elaborate, but boy were they delicious...
I never realized, until now, how lucky we were as kids, to have a mom, who could take the little things she had left in the fridge, which sometimes wasn't much, and with her love, creativity and passion, turn them into delicious, hearty meals.
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| Many childhood memories such as this... |
So maybe we never went on trips or had expensive gadgets, which as children, we were perhaps not as understanding.
I remember all the times as a kid, when I got a little jealous, for not having the things my friends had, without seeing my parents' sacrifice and struggle...
Most importantly, not seeing how others have it worse... To be grateful for the little we have and find joy in the simple pleasures of life...
I wish I had been a bit more kind and understanding.
To realize that sometimes it's not just the expensive trips to exotic places that's needed.
That my mom could make even a trip to the Mall or a meal out, at what was famous at that time, White Castle, fun and exciting.
She entertained us with stories, and introduced us to the Oldies... Songs, books and shows she grew up with...
I remember her tales of disguise and chivalry as she got us to watch The Scarlet Pimpernel, and introduced us to Elvis, Cliff Richard, Johnny Tillotson, the Everly Brothers, and so many others.
She got me to love books by introducing me to Georgette Heyer, describing the scenes... as I was young and Regency English was a bit too difficult for the 12-year-old kid that I was back then....
But over the years, as my reading comprehension improved, I grew to love those books... appreciating Heyer's unique, witty, humorous play with words...
So I may have stayed indoors reading all the time and missed out on being active out in the sun.... but being a shy kid due to my obesity and lack of communication skills... the life I had with my books was all I needed to give me a great childhood.
My siblings and I didn't need trips or items of luxury to keep us entertained...
It was sometimes something just as simple as putting our mattresses in the living room to sleep, while we watched late night movies. Our own version of camping...
A good reminder to me to never forget that it's not the big things that matter...
The little pleasures in life, that my mom provided for us, like good meals and her tales of adventures, are what matters.
It may have been hard on my parents to pay the bills and put food on the table, but they gave us a happy childhood with many memories that we will always treasure... We were truly blessed.
My parents taught us from a young age, through their example, to always do good, be a charitable person, and treat others with respect and kindness.
From my father, who was involved in charitable work, and committing all his time and effort in improving the lives of those he had pledged to help. Who was willing to go hungry and give the last cent in his wallet just to help someone in need.
During his funeral, we met countless people who talked about all the things my father had done for them, and my only wish is that my father could have known of all the love and respect people had for him, and the many lives he had touched and changed for the better.
I wish I could have told him how proud I was of him... and what an inspiration he had been to me...
From my mother, who was a good daughter, wife, mother, sister, aunt, teacher and friend to those around her.
Who has always put others before herself, and whose students still remember and come looking for her, 20 years after she had taught them, just to say hi or to invite her to their children's wedding dinner.
Like how many people actually think of inviting their former teachers to their wedding or their children's wedding.
I barely remember my teachers except for those exceptional ones who cared, so for my mother's students to always remember and think of her, is a testament of the type of teacher she was.
The only way I can repay my parents for all that they have done for us is to try to live by these values that they tried to impart to my siblings and I, and hope I never give them a reason to be disappointed in me.
