My Mother

People often think expressing emotions means saying ‘ i love you ’ all the time or talking openly about your feelings , but my mother has never been that kind of a person.

She is not very expressive with words , yet somehow i have always known how much she loves me. When i was younger , i used to think she was just strict because she kept asking me the same question everyday. ‘ Did you eat? ‘ “ Where are you going? “ ‘ what time will you be back? ‘ I would get annoyed and sometimes answer in the shortest way possible because i felt she worried too much. Back then i never realised those questions were her way of caring for me, As i grow older, I slowly started understanding that not everyone expresses love in the same way. Some people say it , while other show it through their actions , and my mother had always belonged to the second group. One memory that that i will never forget it when i had a high fever. i woke up in the middle of the night and saw her sitting quietly beside my bed , she had a wet cloth in her hand and was checking my temperature again and again. She looked exhausted , but she still smiled when she noticed i was awake and asked me if i wanter water. The next morning she acted as if nothing happened. She didn’t complain about losing sleep or expect me to thank her , she simply continued with her day because for her taking care of me was the most natural thing in the world. Moments like that made me realise that mother dont always need words to express how they feel. Even today , whenever i leave the house , she reminds me to carry my phone , drink enough water , and message her once i reach safely. Sometimes i still roll my eyes because it feels like she repeats the same things everyday , but deep down i know I’ll miss those reminders one day . We have arguments too , sometimes over very small things. There are days when we both get upset and stop talking for a while , but even then she doesn’t stop caring . She’ll quietly leave my favourite food on the table or ask someone else if i have eaten instead of asking me directly. That’s her version of making peace. She may not say sorry , and she may not expect me to say it either , but her actions speak much louder than words ever could . Looking back , ive realised that almost every happy memory from my childhood was her somewhere in the background, makin sure everything was okay without asking for attention or appreciation, I think thats what makes a mother love so special. It isn’t loud or dramatic , it is found in ordinary moments that are easy to over look until you grow up.