I remember when I was in high school and my parents would complain of how rambunctious I and my siblings were. Me and my big-mouth countered, in my knowing way, that if they wanted to have a quiet life, they should not have conceived seven kids. Witty and so shrewd! Now I understand more than ever that caring for a houseful of active kids is no bed of roses.
Growing up, I have had my moments of rebellion to and resentment towards my parents and our situation. As a teenager, I couldn't fully comprehend then why I couldn't always have my way or the things I wanted. I remember moments where I would lock myself in my room, wallow in self-pity and swear at my parents quietly. There were times we argued and I hurled hurtful words at my mama and papa. Indeed, I was not Ms. Goody two-shoes.
Then I grew up (finally) and realized how much my parents love me. They have spent a big part of their life giving all they could to provide for me and my siblings, without expecting anything in return. Even if I disappointed them along the way, their affection for me never wavered.
I am indeed one very lucky and blessed individual to be the daughter of my parents - two people who unconditionally gave me life, nourished me and continues to support me. When all else fails, they never fail to give me comfort and security. Even though I rarely go home or call them, I hope my mama and papa knows how much I love them and how grateful I am to them for all that I am, now and forever. I wish and pray that I too would become the best parent that I could be to my son.
They don't know that I go running home when I fall down,
They don't know who picks me up when no one is around,
I drop my sword and cry for just a while
'cause deep inside this armor, this warrior is a child