My Mother's Lullaby
Some kids like their bedtime stories. As for me, I just tug my mom while she's cooking or reading and tell her that I'm going to sleep. Mom would then put down whatever she's doing and both of us would go to my bedroom. Then I would listen to her lullaby.
I love my mom's lullaby. It's one of a kind and it soothes me from the inside and out. One time, I did my very best hiding my face away from her, because I cried from her lullaby. Such love, such warmth, I thought she was truly one of a kind -- this is the love of my mother.
Time passed and it was impossible to keep myself from growing up. I would no longer tug my mom for her lullaby. Instead, every night, my mom would go to my room, and sing me her lullaby while I'm already lying in bed. Sometimes, I would pretend to fall asleep, so she can go. But then I noticed that mom would stroke my forehead and give me a kiss before she left the room.
I grew up and eventually grew tired of the lullaby. One evening, I came home very upset and I slammed the door to my room. I was wondering how my life turned out this way. I became so angry that I didn't care about anyone or anything. I lied on my bed while my inner self was shouting. After several minutes, I heard the door creak and I saw a silhouette of my mom enter the room.
She asked me what happened. But I told her that I didn't want to talk about it. In my mind, I was pushing my mom off; I just wanted her to go away. Then she started singing me her lullaby. I don't know what came over me and lashed out, "CAN YOU STOP SINGING THAT STUPID SONG TO ME EVERY NIGHT?! IT'S SO STUPID AND ANNOYING! I'M NOT A KID ANYMORE! JUST STOP IT!"
Mom paused and her voice was breaking. She said, "O-okay." then she stroked my forehead and I flicked her hand away. I lashed out on her even further.
"DON'T TOUCH MY FOREHEAD! I HATE IT WHEN YOU DO THAT! YOUR HAND IS SO WRINKLY AND IRRITATING! JUST GO AWAY!" Mom walked away without leaving me her kiss.
I continued to grow up -- at least it's what I thought. I graduated. I found a job. I moved out from home and into my new apartment. I thought I was well off on my way to this thing called life. But I began to notice that everyday's becoming so stressful and that I had a hard time falling asleep. I bought a brand new car. I'm now seeing someone else. I'm thinking of settling down. But life never got easier.
Life became so hard at one point that I got confused and I was not satisfied at anything. My work became affected. My relationship started to struggle into a faint heartbeat. Nothing is making me happy. Despite the rally of my friends, I find myself alone in this crowd.
One night, I asked myself why I'm not satisfied when I have so much. I was longing for warmth. The world feels cold. I had this discomfort deep inside that I didn't know, like there was no word to describe it. But the loneliness was evident. Instead of coming back to the apartment, I drove back home.
"Hi, mom. Hi, dad." I said. They were pleasantly surprised and I ducked down, because I was embarrassed to let them see such a mess -- me. But the moment I stepped in through that door, and after the moment I've seen them again, I started to feel much better.
That night I decided to sleep in my old room; it's still the way it was when I left. And I slept on my old bed. I was able to think clearly in that room that I found it odd. I thought that I did the right thing going back home. But then again, I still found it difficult to fall asleep.
I heard the door creak. I woke up from my shallow sleep. I thought that maybe mom and dad wanted to talk to me about my sudden visit. They're very sharp about these things -- they know when I'm troubled. And I do want to talk about a lot of things with them. But I should've known better.
Mom started to sing me her lullaby. I found out that I've been missing such magic ever since I moved out. I was filled warmth and such is the warmth that I was looking for. Believe me, all the pain, all the loneliness, all the worries, all my fears were sucked out when I heard her sing. The void from regret and uncertainty was filled that I started to sob and cry. I quickly turned around and hugged my mom tight and I didn't want to let go.
"I'M- I'M SORRY! I'M SORRY! I'M SO SORRY, MOM! I'M SO SORRY! I'M VERY SORRY!" I kept apologizing.
Mom chuckled a bit. "You're Sorry? What for?" She asked.
I looked at her face and she stroked on my forehead. "I'm sorry I lashed out on you. That one night. I'm sorry I took my anger on you. I'm sorry for being terrible and for saying those mean and stupid things when you were singing your lullaby. I even insulted you about your hands. I'm so sorry, mom."
"Oh-- that?" Mom looked up. And then she looked down and she spoke with her eyes. "I've already forgotten about that." She smiled. The guilt was gone. And I laughed, because mom did forget. I thought that she would remember. But she simply didn't know what I was talking about. She forgot it. She forgave me. She did a long time ago. "Now go to sleep." She kissed me on my forehead.
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