Outside of paternal affection
Future Today Report
4 April 2016
Every time my friends talked about how their fathers did wonder that no other could, I sat clueless. I haven’t seen my father; I have no recollection of him. He never actually made an effort to come see me or get to know who I am.20 years ago (yes, I am 20 now), my father left my mother for a Russian woman he met in Moscow while he was there for a training. As I’ve been told, he was a marine engineer and was often sent for trainings to other countries.
Three months after he married that Russian woman that I call “Black Arrow” (my hatred for her knows no bounds), I was born. I’ve been raised by a single parent, my mother. I cannot express in words as to how much I love her; not because she’s my mother, but for who she is as a person.
My mother raised me with immense hardships. Dedicating her entire life to me and my growth, she never paid heed to her packet of desires. There were days when she played the piano on a club down the road, or at other days she ran her own catering service. It took her a few years to stabilize in a career. For the past many years, she has been running her own clothing line; that doesn’t earn us much, yet enough to fulfill our basic necessities.
My mother being a self-contained woman never expected my father to financially aid us. It’s been over ten years that he last touched base with any of us. When I turned 18, I started my first job as a Graphic Designer online for a guy who owned a boutique firm.
At school, I was a scholarship student. Achieving good results alongside a job and such a tarnished emotional state wasn’t easy. However, I tried to put in as much effort as I could to share my mom’s burden. Looking at her made me realize how selfless a person can become. Every time she earned a handful of bucks, she spent it on me, my desires or would take me out for a fulfilling meal.
Being a woman is both challenging and charming. However, to her, it was only a challenge. Going through the chronicles of being a single parent was in itself a challenge. While she could’ve remarried, she didn’t because she feared that no other man will bear my responsibility or accept the sacrifices she made for me.
Today, when I look back, I realize she was put almost all she had to stake just for my survival. She is my hero. Despite being consistently downturned by life overall, I see her as a winner. Many go through hardships, perhaps in their own way. But very few have the courage to stand strong with head held high beaming a bright smile for others. She’s indeed a winner. It’s not me who says it; everyone around her knows it.
