My mom ain’t the typical mother, neither ‘loose’ till the extent that I can do anything, nor ‘strict’ till I get deprived of everything that’s fun and nice. So what she’d do was she’d dress me and my brother in a tiny raincoat before letting us run out into the porch as the rain started to pour.
The rain was not the best part. Seriously, it was just like a huge shower that fell all over the porch. Once, I even asked my mom what was the difference between rain and taking a bathe, and if I haven’t mistaken, my mom said that you can’t use soap or take of your shirt in the rain. I wonder now, how was it that I never asked her why.
It was how my mom would run out into the rain along with me and my brother that makes the rain truly special. It was my mom who taught us the special ‘rain’ dance. First time running out into the rain, we were lost, not knowing what to do. She stepped out, opened her hands wide, looked face up into the teary skies, and spun herself round and round. We followed suit, and realized that it was just so much fun.
Then my mom would take my hand in one, and my brother’s in the other. And as I grabbed my brother’s free hand, forming a circle, we would start spinning around like a small dance by a bonfire. Laughing all the way, occasionally slipping on the wet floor followed by a perfect land on the ass, getting up still laughing despite the pain, and the dance just goes on and on.
When the rain slowly subsides and it was time to get back inside, my mom would take out those huge towels and wrap me and my brother up to dry us. Still giggling and laughing, my mom would rub us warm and hard, till we’re completely dry.
“Mummy, why does it rain?”
Still rubbing away, my mom said without even thinking, “Coz God loves the trees and the grass… if He didn’t water them, then they would die.”
“Then why doesn’t God water us too?”
Our eyes met, and with that magical smile, she simply said, “Coz you already have Mummy right?” I think we both laughed as my mom hugged me tightly that day.
Though it’s been a long time since I actually last danced in the rain, or felt the warmth of a huge towel wrapped around my body, I’m nevertheless grateful that some things still remain. Like, that beautiful smile that paints my mom’s face, the warmth of her love that knows no boundaries, and very simply, the magical mom that still is, very much, magical in every way I've ever known.
Happy Birthday Mummy, I love you.