My mom was twenty-eight when her life came shattering down. Dad was someone she loved, doted. Five o clock he took his scooter out, bid her a short bye, by seven, dad was no more. His life was sniffed out by a truck.
For mom it was the end of the world.
Then she thought about us, my brother and me were tiny kids, not in school yet, she held our hands and began her ardous journey. The mountain before her loomed large and terrifying. I am not sure if I could actually begin to fathom how difficult the first few years must have been. Pushing aside her emotions into the deeper recesses of her mind, she set forward to make a living for us. The job offer from dads office came as a great help. Mom shuttled between working at office and home. Very rarely do I remember her crying over her misfortune. She was and is a picture of quiet dignity.
Today, she stands at the peak of the mountain. She imbibed honesty and sincerity in us, she taught us how to put the needs of others before ours, she taught us how not to crumble against demands of our frail minds and bodies - all by practice not preach. She makes me feel proud of being a woman. She does proud to every woman in this world.
Salutes to you mother!
( I do hope and pray life did give her some happiness through this journey of hers )