A little older

I watched my mother sitting there as she always has. Her head tilted a certain way with her hand guiding the fabric through the machine. But this time something's different. Her eyes had more wrinkles, her face had more wrinkles, and so did her hands. Wierd how eighteen years pass. From my childhood, she looked invincible. I feared her and admired her. She could do anything. She was mom. But now, she looked so fragile. And all I wanted to do was protect her. Funny, me, protect my mother... from what?

A smile crossed my face the same time she looked up.

"What are you thinking?"

"Oh, nothing."

Something bothered me. I looked at her some more, and all the things that I've done just played itself in my head like a movie. I was so very stupid. There were countless of times when I lied to her, disobeyed her, backtalked her, and so many other wasteful teenage rebellion. In those moments, I felt that she didn't understand me and that she didn't know how hard it was for me to go to school and try to fit in. Her "rules" were too strict. But now, now that I am older, I see what it was. I was selfish. I only worried about what I wanted, what I needed. I didn't care about her at all. To me, she was the enemy. Then it hit me, I had to protect my mother from myself. I may not be in my rebelling stage anymore, but I don't have the unconditional love for her like she does for me.

She looked at me. I looked away. Ashamed of what I was and in a way still am. Afraid of what I could do to hurt her again.

I finally looked up, and we just looked at each other. No words or tears. Just silence. She knew what I wanted to say. She always do. It was clear to me now. She was never my enemy; I was. I caused all our troubles and all our pain. Me. But I am an adult now, and I will be leaving home soon. However, I know that regardless of what I become I will always be my mother's daughter and she will always be mom, loving me for who and what I am, never judgemental, always unconditional.