How Moving Away From Home Made Me Love My Mother More Than I Did Before
I happen to be one of the luckiest people alive: I have one whole parent who cares and loves me with all of her heart. Regardless of my phase, mood, age, my mother was always on my side, by my side, supporting me, cheering me on, even if I didn’t want her. And I don’t think I appreciated that enough until I moved away.
You see, when I lived at home, I ended up taking my mom for granted a lot of the time. I would sometimes barely even see her, spending days out with friends, having sleepovers, with the comfort of knowing she’d be home when I got back. I treated her with love and respect, but I didn’t show her the affection I should have. I didn’t hug her as tightly or as frequently as I would have liked, and not nearly enough as she deserved.
But moms don’t really care, do they? As long as we continue to be their offspring, they continue to love us, raise us, care for us. I am so glad to have my mother in my life. Her love has been Now, it’s been days since I last saw her, even though we are in the same city.
When I went to college, we would see each other once every 3–4 months, and those were some of the hardest months for us. I didn’t realise how much I loved her until she wasn’t there. All the little things she did for me, all the things I didn’t notice, I called to tell her that I did now, even though it was already too late. How she would pick up some hair bands at the store so I wouldn’t need to, knowing how hard my hair was to tame; how she bought me strawberries at the market for dinner, my favourite fruit, a special treat once you’re in college; how she helped me pick outfits to go out, and had the patience to see me change outfits hundreds of times until we were both happy.
These are the things only my mom would do for me, and I missed her. I still miss her. And the way I miss her isn’t the type of way that will go away after I see her, or after a meal: it’s the kind that will only go away after I live with her, once I have all of that again.
Because when I do see her, I hug my mum tightly, and kiss her, tell her how much I love her and how special she is, and how lucky I am to have her. We talk and talk, trying to tell each other everything, but there’s too much to tell, too much of our lives, and we will never be able to tell each other everything properly because we weren’t there.
I can tell we love each other more now than we did before though. Or at least, we show it better. We hug more, we are more affectionate, we laugh. We actively want to spend more time with each other, texting frequently, calling daily (something that we never used to do).
So moving out showed me how much my mum meant to me, how much she did for me and how much she missed from me. And that is hard to happen, and doesn’t happen to just anyone. She’s special, you know.
If I can leave you with a little bit of advice is: don’t take love for granted. Show it. Tell people, hug them, kiss them. You’ll regret it when you can’t do that anymore.
