It’s time for Nostalgic meme again, and thanks to Pretty Rose for hosting this meme. Anyway, here’s my entry for today. It’s kinda long, but I guess it’s worth reading.
Last week, it was all about our pictures when we were young. I know you were intrigued why I can’t accept that we look the same with my mother. Honestly, I really look like my mother. Aside from the looks, I got her big hips, skin, the way she walked, but I didn’t get her height for she is 5’8, and I am only 5’3. Well, I am glad that I only got her looks and not her being a person.
Here are our differences:
Mother : She has no neighbors, no friends meaning she is not friendly, and very strict.
Me: Very friendly, and my mother got mad at me because of this.
Mother: She is ungenerous, penny-pinching and selfish. (kuripot, madamot, at kayang kumain mag-isa sa harap mo, hindi marunong mag-aya ng kain)
Me: Generous, giving, and charitable.
Mother: She is a great nagger to my father. If you can’t hear my mother nagging to my father, that means she is sick.
Me: I never nag to my ex. I just cried in the corner if I am mad. We had a fight but nobody knows that we were fighting.
Mother: She is religious in her own beliefs but her religious group is something questionable to me for they claimed that God is a woman.
Me: I can’t tell that I am religious, but I go to church and attended a mass or novena on Sundays.
Mother: She is so clean in the house; everything is in order, very organized.
Me: Lazy, but I will not wait til the house looks like a forest. Unorganized and I have a habit of “I’ll do it later”(or manana habit) but the question is when is that? lol.
Mother: Perfectionist, demanding, moody (sala sa init, sala sa lamig)
Me : Whatever!
Another reason why I am not close to my mother, It is because I can still remember how she treated me when I was young. I am the eldest and she hated me so much. I could remember that she tightened me up with a rope to the leg of our table, so she could play her bingo game on that day. Luckily, our neighbor saw me at the window, and I was crying. The neighbors forcefully open the door and released me from being held with a rope. Guess how old I was when my mother did this. I was 5 to 6 years old then. My mother beats me with my father’s belt, sometimes a punch, and sometimes a double face slapping.
In everything I do is a mistake to her until now. Now that I am old, middle age I mean lol, despite of being a battled child, I am trying my best that she will like me by giving simple things she never had before, but she never appreciated it. NEVER!!. She will just accept it, and you can’t hear any words from her. Lastly, I went to school and finished my degree on my own. Oh! Wait, I should thank her, by the way, for I also got her brain, and I passed it to my kids as well.
|1976 - Our House|