hilitehead

My mother… she is beautiful, softened at the edges and tempered with a spine of steel. I want to grow old and be like her. Be like the wonder woman she is, patient, oh so patient and wise, a renaissance woman of twelve super human tentacles that always spur simultaneous however invisible to human eyes. The first tentacle is a master chef that cook relentlessly, day and night, endless flavors of delicious dishes every single earth day, while the second, a master maid, consistently clean spick and span anew in hurricane speed leaving not a single dust or flick of hair. The third is a nimble tentacle of crafty measures, extremely skillful in about every which thing it comes to figure from sewing, building, creating, installing, fixing, to detailing, communicating, and exacting. The fourth is the spirit of a talented stage actor who is naturally predisposed to performance with a capacity for pretend that extend beyond the realms of imagination into reality; beyond the simple analyzing of a script, but with a natural ability to diverge into the mystical realms of the characters soul. The fifth is the humble songstress armed with a powerful voice that produce lyrical streams of gold water, while the sixth tentacle, a most talented literary and hidden writer sit quietly, in a sealed room, narrating fables of a life lived. The seventh tentacle symbolize a healthy body with a beautiful womanly figure while the eighth  tentacle, the great eye, represent a unique sensibility and a highly rendered taste for all things fashion, style, and design. The ninth is the patient koala warrior who, like the rocky mountains of the glorious west, forever enduring and withstanding, however hard it may be, all forms of pain, hardships, burns, blisters, shame, gossips, quarrels, infidelity, beatings, verbal abuse, negligence, ignorance, hatred, complaints, whining and nagging from the world, from her children, and from her husband. The tenth tentacle is the shield of genuine confidence, reserved for a woman who needs no validation from others because only she herself knows and guards her true and pristine value. The eleventh tentacle is the silver spindle of class and elegance that allow a woman, mother, and wife with timeless refinement, chic, grace and poise regardless of any which ordeals that prickle their way through. The final is the twelfth tentacle of morals and virtue set forth by the saddles of my ancient ancestors, morals that bind my mother’s spine, lessons and traditions that have sculpted a generous, warm-hearted, blissful, angelic, loving, tender, caring, passionate, romantic and good-willed person, woman, mother, and wife.

Happiness and love are only real when shared they say, so I thank you my dear mother, for defining what happiness and love are, for allowing me a part of your happiness and love, and forever instilling in us, the wisdom to share our happiness and love throughout our lives and into our future.

You are the reason I am.

I watched a brown man with thick calluses on both hands work fifteen and sixteen hours a day. I saw him once literally bleed from the bottoms of his feet, a man who came here full of hope and nothing else much, alone, unable to speak the language, who taught me all I needed to know about determination, persistence, faith and hard work by the simple eloquence of his example.

My eternal hero, a steel statue with a heart of lava and sweet strawberries, my sweet dad, I love you. And with all of my emotions stirred in a tea of tears, I wish you a super happy belated birthday greeting across the miles that temporarily separate you and I.

My forever growing respect for you is no different from your love for me, it is without boundaries. You are the crowning support of every one of us in our family. I might not know the pains you went through to make us what we are, but what I know is that we all love you. Every year, as I grown up, I realize how tolerant you’ve been of all my crazy habits. Thanks for continually looking beyond what was not so great and helping me to be a better person. It’s only when you grow up, and step back from your father, and leave your own home—it’s only then that I could measure your greatness and fully appreciate it. I can never be proud enough of being the child of such a father who has not his equal in this world. Whenever I try to follow in your footsteps I find myself discouraged, for to be really in everything like you I am sure I could never be. Therefore, I try to be like you in some points, and for those moments I have acquired a great deal. I miss those days when your strong shoulders were the highest place on earth. And no matter how much time passes and how old I become, you will always be my superman.

To my dearly beloved mother and father, happy combined birthday this beautiful day! May all your dreams come true!