Memories with Mom

"A mother is the truest friend we have, when trials, heavy and sudden, fall upon us; when adversity takes the place of prosperity; when friends who rejoice with us in our sunshine, desert us when troubles thicken around us, still will she cling to us, and endeavor by her kind precepts and counsels to dissipate the clouds of darkness, and cause peace to return to our hearts." (Washington Irving)

There's nothing quite like the relationship a girl has with her mother. It's a unique bond between two girls, from two different generations. One the master, the other an apprentice; one the gardener, the other a tiny bud; one the potter, the other the clay.

Our mothers are both in front of us to lead the way and beside us to support us. And every now and then, they also run behind us to catch us when we fall, dust us off and kiss our boo-boos away.

I don't know what your relationship with your mom is right now--hopefully, it's good and strong. As for me, it's a bit embarrassing to admit this but I have always been a "fan" of my mom. Seriously! I've always looked up to her and sought her opinion on everything. I hold on to her every word and to this day, I've been trying to emulate that brilliant, headstrong spirit she has.

Although I cherish my mom each day of the year, this month is extra special because we're celebrating all mothers around the world!

There are too many great memories that I've shared with my mom, but one of the many that stands out is during my graduation march. She and my dad were seated quite a distance from the graduates. So she just sent a message through my phone. She said: "You never cease to make us so proud of you." And that just made my heart swell! Even more than the medal or the diploma or the sheer joy of graduating!

How about you? What are some of the best memories that you have with your mom? Or as a mom, what are your best memories with your little ones?

I wish all you lovely mothers a Happy Mothers' Day!

PS A Mom and Me promo is in the works! Hint: how does a buy one, get one sound to you? Stay tuned!

Images from www.sxc.hu

Me and Our Old Brown Couch

There's something about old things.

They're comfortable. They hold a treasure trove of memories, both good and bad. They are mute witnesses to your best days and your worst.

They are like old friends. The ones you've known all your life. The ones who are no longer surprised whenever you fart and try to deny it. You keep going back to them because they are never far away. And when it's time to let go, something tugs at your heart that you can't quite understand. Sure, you'll get new friends eventually. But none like the ones before.

It's the same way with old things. And it's the same way with our old brown couch.

I try to pull out distinct memories spent on our old brown couch. But I couldn't. There are far too many.

My father bought it when I was barely one year old. So our old brown couch turns out to be my first childhood friend. I may have pooped on it or barfed on it, such details I can no longer recall. Nonetheless, it was always there, just ready to embrace me whenever I needed it.

I grew up with our old brown couch and it grew old with me. It was there when I was down with the flu. It was there when I dared to call my crush on the phone. It was there when I stayed up all night to study for exams. It was there when I first turned down a guy who confessed his feelings for me.

It was there on all my birthdays. It was there on all Christmases. It was there when I first got a cat--a point in time it must have hated, having become the involuntary scratching post. It was there when I cried my heart out, disappointed with my own mediocrity. It was there when I got my first job. It was there for every single thing. Even more than most friends have been.

But with all the wears and tears it had, despite all our attempts to repair it, my father finally decided it was time to let it go.

My father bought a new brown couch. It was different from our old brown couch. But then, so am I. I have grown up and I am different from the old me.

So I lie down on our new brown couch. And I smile. Because from here on out, the two of us will be sharing new memories. The couch with new tears, and me with new hurts. But at the end of the day, it will have me to mend it, and I will have it to comfort me.

Cheerios!
Rach

* Sorry, in all its years of loyalty, I do not have a decent photo of our old brown couch. But this image is pretty close. From sxc.hu

This was a writing exercise hosted by Steph in Adventures in Babywearing. If you'd like to share your own couch story, feel free to drop by her blog and join in!