I come from a family that doesn’t believe in celebrating mother’s day let alone father’s day. When everyone in my class got excited about what card to make or what gift to get, I sat there knowing my parents will appreciate whatever I give them but also a talk accompanying it that everyday should be mother’s day and we shouldn’t restrict it to one day a year. Father’s day, for some reason, was never celebrated. And my father is definitely not one to celebrate anything like that. Yesterday was father’s day and the only reason I knew about is because of the pictures and comments, tweets and facebook updates that comes with every celebration out there.
Does my father deserve a thoughtful post.? Definitely. Does my mother deserve one? Even more. Why don’t I do it? Because I know words will fail me and I hate failing. I’ve attempted to write about them a few times and I still don’t seem to find the right words to use to make it clear how great they have been and continue to be. Those who know me well and been following me, on whatever social media I attempt to use, know how much I attempt to write about my father. I find it much easier to mention him in a post, write a couple of words or a few sentences. The big hands that hold my face, that could make me cry and stops me from it. The unexpected calls, the thoughtful messages, the hugs and small talks. He might not like how my independent thoughts are forming, the way I interpret things and my actions after it. But I try believing that somewhere deep inside he’s proud of the person I have become.
Looking back at it, it seems like I have never posted about my mother the same way I do about my father. It might seem like I don’t appreciate what she has done for us even though she was the one that was always there, the one that did a bigger part of the parenting, the one that made sure we do our homework and study. My mom has always been there and the reason why I can’t seem to find the write words is because she has done so much. Pushed me beyond my limits. And probably the reason why I’ll be finishing an MSc from Imperial College. My mom shared moments of grief for a few seconds with me, acknowledged my sadness when we were all going through hard times, but right after the few seconds she’ll be back to the strong woman I have always known her to be. Being strong for all of us. My mom doesn't like my short temper, my continuous anger when things don't work out the way I want them to. She doesn't like my thoughts that go against her beliefs and what she thinks is the right way to deal with things. But I know she loves me and I know she wants what's best for me.
I haven’t attempted to write about this before, the day she arrived from Germany after my grandmother’s beautiful soul left us. I saw as my sister left the car and quickly enter the house. Waited for my mother to come out, frozen in my spot. I saw her as she scanned the place looking for me. I wanted to run to her but it felt like the force of gravity right under my feet was too strong to let me move. I heard her as she said Bunayyati and opened her arms wide enough to engulf me in the biggest hug around my skinny body. She whispered that she’s proud of me and then she was gone to the group of people that filled the house, the people that were there to show their support and share her grief.
Both my parents are loved and respected by many. They have both come a long way. They’ve learned as we grew up. Made sure we seize every chance we’re offered. Taught us to respect time and appreciate what we have. They made sure and continue to make sure that we get the best education out there. And now with the youngest sibling being done with his undergrad degree and soon to start his master’s, I know their dreams are almost fulfilled.