One word: Strength

She is strict and disciplined. Absolutely not soft spoken and can become angry easily. If something is not right in her eyes, she sure will tell (no, nag) you about it in a forceful voice and sometimes hurtful words.

In my younger years, I had moments where I despised her very much. When instead of embracing me for making it thru the running mad dogs, she made a gripo (faucet) out of my ribs by a full three-sixty-degree pinch. I could not, for the life of me, understand why I got punished instead of gotten a hug.

You see, she is some woman. She’s often misunderstood. She doesn't wear her heart on her sleeve, not the affectionate and touchy one. Yet… she is strong... and brave. Her way of nurturing is unconventional, not much cuddling for you, you must learn how to stand on your own. She makes me do things independently and courageously. I am forever in awe of how she instills self-sufficiency and resiliency in me. I am forever thankful for how she shapes the person that I am. I would never ask the universe for some other way around.

Her love is unconditional and trusting. I can be who I want to be because she lets me be.

She is "strength". She is my mother.

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