i finished reading mitch albom's for one more day today! it was so moving it made me cry on my bus ride to work. when i read till the very last page at the office, i couldn't help but cry again because it was just so poignant. i picked up the book last night because i thought it was the perfect book to read on Mothers' day - something that celebrates the nobility of a mother's love. indeed, after reading, i only wanted to fly straight to tuas and give my mum a hug and never let go.
Charley thinks to himself, "I saw in her expression that old, unshakable mountain of concern. And I realized when you look at your mother, you are looking at the purest love you will ever know."
But there’s a story behind everything. How a picture got on a wall. How a scar got on your face. Sometimes the stories are simple, and sometimes they are hard and heartbreaking. But behind all your stories is always your mother’s story, because hers is where yours begins.
yesterday my family didn't really celebrate Mothers' day because the lead was too tired and lazy to go out for dinner. knowing that we had to do something for her on this special day, dajie and i tried to spring a surprise on her by buying her favourite bengawan solo cake. but the unfortunate thing was that our plan was thwarted in barely a few minutes after we bought the cake! it was all my fault for not hiding the cake properly. come to think of it, it was quite stupid (okay maybe very stupid) of us to buy the cake during our usual sunday grocery shopping, because my mum would be there to scan through the stuff that we buy! nothing ever escapes her eyes, really. and when she asked what that box (the cake) in the trolley was, i burst out laughing because i forgot how to lie. and there goes our surprise..
i love my mama so much so much. she's one of the two people in the world who truly understand me and can read me like a book. the other person is of course my father. my mama is probably the only person in the world who can stand holding my sweaty hands in those big chubby yet very warm hands of hers :) she took that great deal of pain to bestow upon me the pleasure of living in this colourful world, and the least i can do in return is to cherish my life. this is a promise i make, that no matter what happens, no matter how tortuous the road of life can get, i will never ever do anything to hurt myself because it will hurt my dearest mum too. that was also something that i appreciated from the novel. if there comes a day when i lose my mind and get blinded by other things that i forget about filial piety, someone please wake me up and remind me never to do things to hurt my parents okay?
yesterday my bro asked me what he should write for his essay entitled "colours". i told him quite simply that if i were him, i would write about the emotions that colours portray. it just occurred to me, now as i'm typing this, that colours need not be red, green, blue or yellow. they need not be the pigments that distinguish the different races. reflection of light is not needed to produce colours. we can live in a world of darkness that is full of colour. for me, it is the people in my life and the love they embody that make up all the colours i can see.
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