Mama

Life is moving so fast it scares me. I’ve only just started navigating my twenties, and already I feel like time is slipping through my fingers. And yet, here I am, on another flight, caught between places. Each return home feels like a relief, a reminder that amidst all this chaos, there’s a constant, a sense of home where I can be fully myself. But even that comfort comes with its own ache. I can’t stop thinking about how much I miss you, how much I miss all of you.

You’ve taught me so much, Mama. The way you see life, with optimism, generosity, and boundless love, has shaped who I am in ways I’m only now starting to understand. I owe my ability to love fiercely, without hesitation or expectation, to you. It’s something I hold onto tightly, even when I’m far away. But distance has its price. I feel it every time I can’t hug you when I need it most, or worse, when I know you might need it. A screen will never replace the warmth of your embrace, the simplicity of just being near.

And then there’s the fear, the quiet, gnawing fear of time. I’m scared of missing the little details as you and Dad grow older, as life pulls me in a different direction. I don’t want to wake up one day and realise I was too far away for too long, that I let the distance steal moments I can never get back.

But then, there’s gratitude, too. Gratitude for everything you’ve given me: this foundation, this way of seeing the world. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t know how to find beauty in giving without expecting, in loving without limits. I wouldn’t have this deep need to live fully in the present, to value the human connection above all else.

I guess this is my way of saying thank you. Thank you for teaching me how to love, how to live, how to care. For being the kind of person I aspire to be. I only hope that one day, I can carry forward even a fraction of the goodness you’ve shared with me.

Take care of yourself, Mama, because I’m not ready to imagine a world without you. But let’s not talk about that yet, let’s save it for when you’re 90, or even 100. For now, just know that I love you, endlessly, unconditionally, and without measure.