Dear Mom, 

I know we squabble and fight for the smallest of things, but with each fight our understanding and affection seems to increase. 

When people come up and admire you saying that you look like my sister, I may seem to be jealous but in reality am just happy and elated that you still display the vibrant energy that endears everyone. 

I might snap at you, calling you judgemental and rude, and other names which might break your heart, but you should know that deep down I do not mean it. Adulthood has introduced me to this term "ego" which restrains me from apologising to you. 

There are times when i am eaten by worry and concern, when I see you taking the amount of stress and strain. And yet I do not help you out as much as I really should as I am wrapped in my own world. 

Your repetitive advises, though annoying, ring true to the way of the world and as much as I hate to admit it, you are almost always right. 

When we argue for petty things, I don't know if you notice, but its really fun to rile you up not that I want to cause you any trouble. 

In a world of fake people and friends, you are truly my best. For you do not hesitate to right me when am wrong and applaud me when am right. You let me take the high road, standing firm lest I should fall and guide me through the hurdles and drenching points of life.

Just when I think I am about to drown, you pick me up and swaddle me. 

I argue that you treat me like a kid, but honestly I like being protected and taken care of. I demand that you give me more freedom, but you are the anchor that stops me from straying from my path. 

Mom, I love you even though I might not say it much. 

Mom, I need you even though I push you away. 

Mom, I want you for you are a blessing and miracle in disguise. 

I only hope I turn out to be a mother like you. 


Your Daughter.