When my mom was pregnant with me, she did not go for her job interview in Dewan Bahasa. She wanted to care for her newborn baby full time.

 

As the first baby, it was not an easy delivery. But it was a normal one, and I was one healthy, good-weighted baby.

 

I spent my first two-and-a-half years alone with my mom, and dad. She was with me all the time. Day and night. Just pouring her love on me.

 

She gave me two wonderful brothers, and one amazing little sister.

 

She patiently taught me how to read, count, draw. Helped me with my homeworks, argued with me when I was old enough to argue about mathematics. Bought me books upon books upon books, knowing that I love to read.

 

She taught me how to pray, to be nice with friends.

 

She did not need to teach me much, because she’s a great example on her own.

She’s so soft spoken she never shouts at people. She’d come close enough to you, and talk.

She’s never said any bad words.

She’s not a fan of any foul language.

 

She always said good things about us. Even when we were naughty, she’d say, “You lucky kids.”

 

She nursed us well when we were sick.

 

We had freedom. She’s not a person who’d say “no” to us too much. That’s how we get to appreciate the freedom she gave us.

 

I never remember her as a very stern mother. She’s just right, and I hope we did not cause much troubles for her.

 

She cooked my favourite dishes my first SPM day.

 

She cooked my favourite chicken rice for me once I regained my appetite after a bad bout of fever.

 

She treated my dad’s parents very well, and loved them like her own parents. And they loved her back.

 

She’s a ray of sunshine in the morning, she’d show a happy face and cheerful mood first thing in the morning.

 

She’d always put a smile on her face, even when things don’t go her way.

 

She’s determined to keep herself happy, no matter what has happened to her, and to us. And that made us happy too.

 

My mom is very strong, and very brave. My sister and I are not as strong, or as brave as she is. Maybe we will, as time goes by.

 

I could write a whole book about my mom.

 

Mama, I love you.

 

29 years ago, we were fighting a journey together. For my life.

 

Thank you, mama, for my birthday.

 

 

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