Sunday, October 20

Moms

I had a blogged planned. It was already written with a theme, a story and sentences. However, I hopped off the plane to see my favorite person in the whole world, an understatement, and my blog seemed to not exist anymore. Every word seemed to dissipated, as if they lost all meaning. At this point in time, nothing matters anymore, nothing but my moms. She's the only thing to me that will ever hold value to me. They can measure gold, by the ounces, by the pounds or by the price. They can't measure my moms. I call her moms and not mom for a reason. It's because she does the work of more than one mom or even more than multiple people. Moms is plural because that what she is, sometimes taking on the roles of the paternal and maternal roles. One day I'll show her off, I'll tell the whole world about her in front of an audience awaiting to hear of her greatness. Even that wouldn't be sufficient enough. Today it hurts; tomorrow it'll hurt. I'm writing about her and thinking about her because today she is a little bit stress, a little bit agitated, which is a rare siting. It's nothing from her own doing. She'll be okay though, she always reassures. How I yearn to know how to lay her troubles to rest and give every bit back to her. I wish you knew my moms and what she does and has done for my family and me. She is my rock, my protector. Jesus may indeed be my savior, but my moms is my mortal protector. She's a saint; she's my saint. A lot of people know my dad and what's he has done. Honestly, nothing impresses me about him, not the people he knows, the knowledge he knows, the money he has or even his resume as a whole. My moms does it for me, incomparably. No one does more and takes less credit than her. If people don't know her, it's because of her humility. Her good deeds runs laps around my dad's feats. I am, not at all, trying comparing the two. I'm just letting you know that if you know my dad, my moms will blow you away. If she won't cry, I'll cry for her. She the strongest and the most beautiful person I know. We don't deserve her or any part of her, but we were blessed with her. If ever I had any admirable attributes, it comes from her. Any weakness in my character is from my own doing. So, the little bit of this post is a token a of my appreciation towards her even though she won't read it. I can't bare to write anymore about her without drying my eyes out. Ask me about my moms, and you'll never hear the end of it.