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I remind her that she talked me into doing things I did not want to do. To that she replies, “I am the mother and will always be, however old you may grow.”
I heard her voice. It is so soft and musical. She is telling me things. She is listening to music so that I can hear it. She is careful about what she eats so that I get the best nutrition and I can grow well. As my limbs and other body parts take shape, I feel other sensory inputs as well.
There is a sudden rush of light and the voices are louder. I am scared, but the familiar soft voice gives me comfort. I am cold and feel water being splashed. Then there is warmth of a cloth and of the warmth I am familiar with.
The voice is now calling me different names and hugging me. Now, I have to work to get my feed, instead of the auto mode I was used to. I see more colours and hear more voices. Some voices are familiar giving me comfort, a few are not. I can feel the care.
She is talking to me, touching me and helping me to gain mobility. She teaches me. She listens to me. She speaks to me in firm tone at times. I am not scared of her when she does that as I know she wants to correct my actions. She forces me to eat all kind of stuff. I find it interesting as she gives me the nutrition facts.
She made me tough enough to face the world. That’s how I handled the bullies in school. She would help me handle one event and then explain the concept. That’s how I learnt my life skills.
She told me to be independent. But when the chance arrived, she was hesitant. I used the skills I learnt from her on her. Yes, she proved to be a good teacher. The student surpassed the teacher.
I could sense that she was feeling useless and I may not need help from her. She decided to step back and let me have a hand in deciding my path. The leash was let loose. With multi-level anxiety, she let me out of her nest.
As I spread my wings farther, her advice would come in fewer but as concepts. She knew I could handle the specifics. She decided to get on with her life, putting her skills to use. She had quit her job to spend more time with me.
But that did not stop her from engaging herself fruitfully. She was bold and ahead of her times. Her career path was colourful with varied activities. She came out looking good every time. I am proud of her.
She is less daring now. She uses words like “fear” and “afraid” often. Is it time yet to reverse the role and tell her what to do? Will she listen to me? I doubt she will be a willing child. She is stubborn. I remind her that she talked me into doing things I did not want to do. To that she replies, “I am the mother and will always be, however old you may grow.”
Though I made friends around, she was my best friend in the world. She has my pulse. The umbilical cord continues to exist.
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A full-time employee, a part-timer, a flexi-timer, freelancer, an entrepreneur, now a life coach - I have seen it all. I have passion for reading and writing, like to talk about parenting among read more...
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Trigger Warning: This contains descriptions of mental health trauma and suicide, and may be triggering for survivors.
Author’s note: The language and phraseology used are not the author’s words but the terms and narrative popularly used for people living with mental illnesses, and may feel non-inclusive. It is merely for putting our point across better.
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