My mother was a true lady who didnât come from anything. She learned how to be a mom while learning how to sacrifice, not only to make me happy, but to make her whole family happy. As I grew older, I realized life isnât always gentle. Even when we werenât close, I know she was thinking about me, wishing the best for me. She wasnât perfect. But she taught me something more valuable than perfection. I learned perfection is a lie. Chasing it will exhaust you. Trying to appear flawless will leave you empty. From her life, I learned everyone is perfectly imperfect. Thatâs not weakness. Thatâs humanity. She struggled, but she never gave up. She never stopped loving. She never stopped trying. She never missed calling me on my birthday. She absorbed pain like it was her responsibility. That kind of love is quiet. Itâs sacrificial. People saw my success, but they didnât see the nights. They didnât see her messages from a new WhatsApp number, âHey, itâs mommy. I hope youâre well David.â She wasnât just my mother. She was my familyâs hero. She showed up. Sunday church, just to see me. I wish I appreciated that more. I wonât be perfect. But I will try.
If you remember my mother, donât remember her as flawless. Remember her as faithful.đď¸â¤ď¸
