Mother FTW.

If you've ever lived on your own, it won't take long for you to realise how much your mother has done for you all these years. You'd find out real quick how hard it is to upkeep a house. The clothes, dishes, cooking, cleaning, the works. Then you move back and you'll learn to appreciate how much she has sacrificed for so long to take care of a home. At least I did.

I have a mother who raised four children on her own for the past 24 years, worked three or more jobs a day, put three of us through university, clothes on our backs, food on the table, showed me the love of books, taught me how to draw, put up with my hatred for school, never denying us a chance, and most of all, giving us a home filled with love and laughter. All with nary a primary school education. She was fiercely determined to make the family work despite the odds. Oh, what odds. Yet, she pulled it off with aplomb. Life gave her a crate of rotten lemons and she tore it a new one. Where she found the ability or will to do so is something I'll never be able to fathom. At least not now, not as a guy without child.

I can only picture a woman with a love for her children that's not merely real and ever present, but it's a love that rages. So high and wide, nothing will ever stop her. Not sickness, not limitations, not hurt, not weariness, not abandonment. I thank God often for this woman of steel. You wouldn't be able to tell from her gentle demeanour, or her big, embracing eyes. But she is a tower of strength for us, for me. If I'm ever having a bad day, I don't have to look far to find reasons to immediately dust myself off. Many years ago, the moment enough of us became capable, bread-fetching young adults, we made sure she never has to work another day in her life. We've never discussed it verbally before but we just knew–at least I believe that to be so. She has gone through enough, and worked enough to last three entire lifetimes.

So, if any of you ever make the grave mistake of telling me you've got issues with your mum, or dare you do it, throw a tantrum about her–realise that I will have an immediate, reactive urge to slap you. It's not quite Mother's Day yet, I know. But go hug a mother, why don't you?

Oh, she now has six grand-younglings at her disposal for errands, hanging out with, discussions, babying and whatever else grandmothers do with their grand kiddoes. She likes her some TV programs (The 32 incher we got her is losing its mojo and recently, she ordered a 42 inch LCD TV. I thought that was totally badass, hahaha! ) and loves gardening.

That box of tissue? She left it there while in stealth mode.