Tell Me About Your Mother

Mine slept one afternoon and forgot to wake up.

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Well, where do I begin telling you about my mother? First, she became lazy. Too lazy to wake up, if I may say. After fighting so hard to keep her eyes open, she couldn’t remember the most important thing no mother should ever forget, given a choice. One afternoon, she fell asleep and forgot to wake up. No amount of wailing and crying could get her out of her sleep.

That woman forgot about me — it wasn’t funny by the way, Mum, in case you are up there, you should know that. It wasn’t nice, especially since you slept with a part of me. Ever since you slept, I have never been the same. I just learnt to live with that part of me, asleep with you.

Today was a good day, almost a good one. Lunch was served, and every dish looked really yummy, even for a non foodie myself. I was excited to start digging in, and so was everybody else.

You know, when they say losing a loved one, it’s hard to move on. There are triggers everywhere. It always hits home every time I hear it.

I served myself, but before I could dig in, a lady, maybe in her early or mid-twenties, laughing with her friends, sitting at the opposite table, said she was sending a picture of her food to her mum.