And I remember when I was 3, she tucked me into bed and was waiting for me to fall asleep so that she could go serve food for my dad. I played pretend that I was asleep. She leaned forward and planted a kiss on my small cheeks. That was the last time I felt love from her.

Then came my brother. Attention drifted away from me and never got back. I waited and waited and waited coz I understood that my brother was a kid and he needed love. I waited and waited. I was a kid too, then. But it never returned. It stayed glued onto my brother.

Slowly started the ugly name callings. I didnt know what it meant then. I was young and naive back then. Oh the words she would call me knowing I wouldnt understand her. I understand mom, now I do. And when name calling didnt satisfy her anger, she turned to the cane. There wasnt a day I could escape from her whips. And if I was lucky enough to not get it for a day, I would pray so hard that I wouldnt the next day. Prayers fell on deaf ears.

When I was 8, my mom sent me and my brother (then 4) to the play ground to play. He ran off somewhere wothout my knowledge. I returned back home hopeing that he'd be there at home. He wasnt. Mom pushed me out of the house and told me not to return without him. I went back down tearing. I searched the playground umpteen times but to no avail. I gave up and returned home. There he was, watching tv. She was so angry at me for making her panic that she pushed me to the ground and used a spoon to dig into my flesh between my index and middle finger. The skin came off. There wasnt blood. But it felt wet and hurt everytime I tried putting the fingers back together.

My brother held the one place in her heart. I tried so hard to be loved by her again. But I never felt it again. I got punished for the mistakes he did. I don't understand why she did those things to me. I don't think I ever will. I never said I hate her. After all that she did, I still can't find it in me to say that I hate her. The unfair words she said. The unfair judgements she gave. Its all still in this heart. Its not fading, even after all these years.

Mom had a horrible childhood. Her's wasnt those that were filled with candies and sunshine. She got good whackings from my grandma. Since she was the eldest, grandma would always beat her with a stick for all the wrongdoings her siblings did. I tried so hard to take this in and understand her. Its so difficult to when she does the things she does. I understand you Mom. Thats why I've been quiet all this while. Why can't you understand me too?

Now she tries to level things up in my past by buying presents for me. It aint working. Money can't bring lost time back. Money can't erase the things you did. You can take all the stuff you bought for me. I don't need them. What I need though, is my past. I doubt you can buy that.

Thanks for following in grandma's footsteps without even giving it a second thought. You could have chosen not to, but you did. Thanks for not giving me a chance. Your son is enough for you. But most of all, thanks for making me the person I am today. Because without these bitter experiances with you, Im not doing the mistakes you did. Thanks for making me a better person...

End