Have I been a good mother?

A gift to my mom for mother's day.. bought tears to her eyes..

When my little girl first opened her eyes after making me wait so desperately for her for all those months and years and being a part of me for a little over nine months, my eyes welled up with tears and my heart savoured the moment. She was a beautiful song in my life, and I could hear the sweet melody, despite the wailing and screaming she did. That’s when it first hit me, “Am I going to be a good mother?”As days and weeks went by, I learnt to love to change her diapers and not to fuss over making her bottles of milk. I learnt just how to make her smile, even though her wailing was most prominent throughout the day. And every night before I slept, I would give her one last glance, close my eyes and wonder, “Have I changed her diapers correctly? Was the milk warm enough in the evening? Is she sleeping perfectly right now? Is her cot comfortable? Have I been a good mother?”. However, only to be woken up by her again in a matter of two hours.

No sooner was she able to walk and go wherever she wanted in a confined space. She would often mess around with things, and when I would scold, she would start to cry and create a fuss. And I would calm her down helplessly wondering, “Have I done the right thing scolding her? Have I done the right thing calming her? Should I have let her cry? Or should I have not said anything to her messing around? Have I been a good mother?”And there continued a series of birthdays, and my little bundle of joy was growing up. I would often sit down with her and do handwriting practices with her. I would teach her how to draw and help her with her homework. And still in the middle of playing senseless games with her I would ponder “Did she understand what I explaint? Did I teach well enough? Did she do all her homework? Should I buy her the barbie she wants? Have I been a good mother?”

And then came a time when I realized the agony of seeing a daughter turn into a tomboy. She was anything but a girl. She hated dressing up, and she refused to let me play with her hair. And I would think and think and think “Its all because of me, isnt it? I havent raised her up properly. Should I force her to do things like a girl? Or would she grow out of it eventually? Have I been a good mother?”

No sooner did I realize, my daughter was growing into a mature young lady. She knew my secrets and my problems as well as I did. I gave birth to not just a daughter, but a friend. And the tomboy she had become was just a phase in her life, something she outgrew sooner than I could realize. And inbetween little chats with her I would think, “Is she old enough to know it? Is she strong enough to keep it and not spread it? Did I do the right thing telling her about my problems? Maybe I shouldn’t have told her. Have I been a good mother?”

And then came her teens. Those had been tough! She had a boyfriend and I would worry about the way she was changing so fast. All of a sudden she had grown up so much, resposible for all her decisions herself. Those were the months I would worry like hell, “Is she serious? Is he serious? Are they serious? Should I let her go to the party she’s been begging me for? Should she take her friends for a movie on her birthday?

Shouldn’t I scold her for not giving much time to her studies? Does she love her boyfriend a bit too much? Have I been a good mother?’

The tensed days turned even tenser when she passed out from her school and turned 18 just months after. Even between the heavy college schedule she had to follow along with keeping up with her courses, we would sit down and talk about her marriage. “Is the guy alright for her? Is he going to keep her happy? Am I making the right decision, or maybe we need to reconsider? Have I been a good mother?”

And the day of her marriage was way hard, she being my only child. The tensions of the preperations, prays to God to make everything work smoothly. And inbetween the tears we shared before she departed for her new “home”, I thought, “Is she going to remember me? Is she going to love me the same way? Would she call me everyday? Or every other day? Or maybe, every week? How often would she come to see me? Was the wedding good enough? Was I incapable of something? Would she adjust fine in her family? Would they love her? Have I been a good mother?’My world had shrunk so much. All of a sudden, a family of three, reduced to two. And for us, three had not been a crowd, but a company we would always cherish. She would come to visit us sometimes, but no matter how often, it seemed very less. The morning tea always brought her to our minds and we would talk about her life and her future. “Is she doing good? When would they have a child? Would they have one or two or more? Would she leave the children with us often? Are there any problems she’s facing? Is everyone good to her? Is her husband as loving and caring as she says he is? Have I been a good mother?’She did have a child, and she did make often visits. One day, as she brought her kid along for a visit, she cried a little as we hugged and told me she worried if she’s been a good mother so far. She told me she thought I have always been the perfect mother and she hopes to follow my footsteps. And that night, as I saw my daughter tuck her child to sleep, yawned and went off to sleep herself, I knew that all the while I had the answer to my question with myself. From changing her diapers to choosing the wedding dress, I have been her mother, not just because I gave birth to her, but because I loved her from the core of my heart all the while. And that night when I closed my eyes, the question no longer haunted me, but I smiled as I recollected the answer, “I have after all been a good mother.”