There’s no easy way to talk about our mothers on Mother’s Day. So let me start by saying that my mom is special.


Mom and me, 1986 or 1987.

You see, my mother is different from most other mothers out there because she raised two free children. Her approach was something that came naturally, but now, she would be called a ‘free-range’ parent. We were always encouraged to do things on our own, come up with our own games, and go to the store unattended either on behalf of our mother or grandmother.

Mom and dad, 1983.

Mom and Dad, 1983.

While hers wasn’t an easy childhood, mine was the easiest of all. She never pretended to know everything and often urged us to get the answers we were seeking on our own. Through some of the most complicated phases of our lives when she barely had any time to sit with us for dinner, mom managed to stay sane. Raising two children with little money while taking care of a sick husband is not an easy task, but my mom made it happen and guess what? She never complained.

Mom never complains.

Mom & me, 1989.

Mom & me, 1989.

She’s the happiest of all women even when she’s not, and when we talk over the phone or see each other, she cries. And as I kiss her cheeks she reassures me that all that salty taste is a product of happiness. She’s so happy that my brother and I are free. And because of her, I’ve always known freedom.

It’s because of my mother that I love dancing, singing, and Paul Newman, but it’s also because of her that I love freedom.

Mom & me, 2014.

Mom & me, 2014.

You see, my mom is special, and she’s all mine. ~