Happy Mothers Day (UK Version)

My super-mum when she was super-young!

My super-mum when she was super-young!

I have grown up celebrating “Mothers Day” on the second Sunday of May since ever but this time there is a twist in the story. I realized that England celebrates its mother’s day on the second Sunday of March and so I decided there is no harm in celebrating mother’s day twice a year instead it is a TREAT (for my mother specifically). But there is a villain to this story too and that is “Time”. My mother isn’t with me today (in England) and so she wont be on the Mother’s day in May though I know that regardless she wont be physically with me, her love and prayers are always with me.

The hustle and bustle in the stores, grocery markets (Especially Card Factory) on this very weekend is worth mentioning. People choosing cards for their mommy, granny etc and I felt miserable and happy at the same time. Happy for many would have their mothers right with them to cherish this special  day and miserable cause I was jealous or rather envious – I was envious of their happiness.

Mothers are the embodiment of God on this planet(at least that’s what I’ve believed for ever). There are no adjectives that can describe how great a mother is but we can always try – try to tribute her and make her feel special; not on just one special day but every day in our very own way. She should know that she is always cherished, her presence is a significant trademark in our lives, love for her is eternal and even if it is that we have to present our lives at stake to honor her, we will!

This woman who we call our “Mother” starts to feel us way too before we become tangible for her. She knows us well enough even before giving birth to us. Those nine months are her celebration, she counts down to the big day when she could finally touch her baby. The baby she had been awaiting since long when every day was a pain blended with happiness. She protects her baby for life exactly like her womb has protected the baby for nine months. Our mums are all the very same in a very different way. Some are strict, some are lenient, some are emotional, some are harsh and the list goes on but what unites them is they all love us – just enough that even if the whole world hates us, her love would be sufficient for the warmth and care needed.

These two ladies are the most beautiful beings on earth!My mommy and sissy <3

These two ladies are the most beautiful beings on earth!
My mommy and sissy ❤

My mom is a super-mom! Incredibly loving, caring, cheerful, emotional, compassionate, fierce, patient, kind, generous, warm-hearted, strong, beautiful, wise, my mentor, my bestie and the list goes on and on until I conclude it – she is a role model for me and I would always want to be a mother like her. I am very fortunate to have her in my life. The distance over the time has taught me many lessons. I wake up to my ringing alarm clock in the morning and miss looking at her angelic face for the very first thing in morning. I eat yogurt every morning and would buy her favorite cereal “Weetabix” cause I miss arguing over the breakfast with her that I don’t like eating yogurt or Weetabix for breakfast no matter how nutritious it is. I miss our “girlie” conversations and gossips. I miss when nobody is there to see me off when I leave for school. I miss her teasing me over my so-called big nose. I miss her calling me those nick names when I’d get real annoyed to attack her and she’d tickle me despite of the fact she knows that I am not ticklish. I miss cooking and baking with her when I’d be giving her tips on fashion and fitness and she’d be telling me to focus on cooking before she could smell something burning. I miss those long nights when she would toss and turn in bed cause something is bothering her and all she would need is a good massage, a considerate ear and a hot cup of milk and when I’d do it for her, she’d kiss my forehead and would tell me that I am her princess. I miss when she’d pinch me when I am on the verge to spit out her secret(unintentionally) in front of my dad. I miss her confused expressions while I’d teach her to use laptops, smart phones or even an I pod. I miss “HER”. I have realized her importance in my life even more in these few months while I have been away from her. She is my lovely mommy and I miss her every day and every night and I know she misses me way more than I can ever miss her but we love each other the most.

Find some time to spend  with her and let her know that you love her cause the arms of the clock would never turn back and the last thing you’d ever want to do on this planet would be “Regret”. Love her, respect her, honor her and make her feel special before it’s too late. Tell her she is your super-mom and your life may be super-busy and super-occupied but you always have some super-time every day for your super-mom! Cheers!

Cranky Old Man

Respect them for you will be here too one day!

When an old man died in the geriatric ward of a nursing home in an Australian country town, it was believed that he had nothing left of any value. Later, when the nurses were going through his meager possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every nurse in the hospital.

One nurse took her copy to Melbourne. The oldman’s sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas editions of magazines around the country and appearing in mags for Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on his simple, but eloquent, poem. 

This old man, with nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this ‘anonymous’ poem winging across the globe awaking masses to accept the reality that“nobody can run away from the dreadful old age however ravishing their young age may be”.

Cranky Old Man

What do you see nurses? . . .. . . What do you see?
What are you thinking….? When you’re looking at me?
A cranky old man . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit .. . . . . . . .. With faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food……. . And makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice. .’I do wish you’d try!’
Who seems not to notice . . .the things that you do.
And forever is losing . . . . . .. . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not . . . … lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding . . . .The long day to fill?
Is that what you’re thinking?. .Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse .you’re not looking at me.
I’ll tell you who I am . . . . .. As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding, .. . . . as I eat at your will.
I’m a small child of Ten . .with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters .. . . .. . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen . . . .. with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now . . .. . . a lover he’ll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty . . . ..my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows .. .. .that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now . . . . .I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide . . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty . .. . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other . . .. With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons .. .have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me . . to see I don’t mourn.
At Fifty, once more, .. …Babies play ’round my knee,
Again, we know children . . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me . . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future … . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing .. . . young of their own.
And I think of the years . . . And the love that I’ve known.
I’m now an old man . . . . . . .. and nature is cruel.
It’s jest to make old age . . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles .. .. . grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone . . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass . A young man still dwells,
And now and again . . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys . . . . .. . I remember the pain.
And I’m loving and living . . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few . . .. gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact . . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people .. . . . .. . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man .
Look closer . . . . see .. .. . .. …. . ME!!

Remember this poem when you next meet an older person who you might brush aside without looking at the young soul within. We will all, one day, be there, too!