I feel like the older we get, the less we appreciate what we have or what we’ve had.

My mom and I have always had a rough relationship. I take after my dad’s rowdy personality where we prefer social settings more than we do our own solitude. Its not to say I don’t enjoy my individual space, but I find happiness in the company of others too. My mom has always been a little bit of a hermit. Its how she was conditioned, though. Growing up as an only child who’s expectations were to thrive in school, she left little time for social interaction. Not only does she worry about my excessive time away from home, she also can’t understand it fully because she doesn’t enjoy everything that I do.

I remember that mom and I would walk our dog together on nice evenings and talk about everything. I feel so nostalgic to the good times that I’m almost resistent to believeing that I’ve left that behind, unknowingly, over time. I’m so insanely busy that I don’t even realize how important it still is to mom to have that time with me. Already falling into the mix makes it even harder for me to pick myself out of it.

I take a lot of passion in everything that I do, whether miniscule or major. I don’t let myself stay stagnant, or even sleep very long, because it takes time away from what I could be accomplishing. I’m disappointed in myself because of that though, considering that its affecting my ability to sit still and talk to my own mother without feeling as if times being wasted or taken away from what else I could be doing.

2009-06-04 20.09.59.jpgI feel so selfish though. Everything my mom does, she’ll think twice. Once for me, and once for my brother. We are the focal point of her life since we’ve been born. In return, how often do the both of us think of her before ourselves? How often do we even think about her before our friends or significant other? We lost sight of her selflessness through our own selfishness because there’s no threat of it being taken away from us. Should it even take a threat? That’s wrong. To realize how important someone is when they’re close to being taken away from us; its often too late.