Mother's Hope

I tried to add more about what mother"s need.

I was married in my 20s, I was eager to have a baby. I came from a big family, we were five sisters so I decided early with my husband Nour to start a family.

Two months later, I was pregnant. I was very careful , I would not hurt my baby so I ate healthy food, slept well,  smiled, made myself happy by reading jokes in magazines, breathed deeply fresh air in the park, left a smoky places. I was proud of my baby. Once I saw him, my eyes lit up. It was love at first sight. I was head over heels in love with him. I was nuts about him. It was an amazing time. I’m crazy about him. We called him Rabia.

During one year I breastfed my son Rabai. I didn’t sleep well anymore. I thought about him every day. I asked myself, “ Did he eat well?, Did he sleep well?,  was he Ok?.” When he laughed I laughed too, when he cried I cried too. When he fell sick I fell sick too.

The years have gone by fast ,  Rabia reached the age of six. We registered him in the best school. I devoted my life to raising him, I drew pictures with him, played with him, cooked the best food for him, read children’s stories with him, watched children’s TV program with him, bought clothes and shoes for him, reminded him  to do his homework and brush his teeth before going to bed at eight o’clock in the evening, guided him through this life on a good path, gave him advice, gave him a crash courses in life subjects, told him to keep his chin up, paid him a compliment, made time for him, worked my tail off to save money for him, prayed for him, made many sacrifices for him.

The years went past, After, Rabia graduated, he found a job in a short time. He became smarter, stronger, more handsome , more knowledgeable, more confident. He got some experience under his belt. I could count on him. I had waited patiently for this moment.

I told myself, ” I seemed to done my job well, Right now, Rabia is able to follow the rest of his journey in a safe way. It’s time to take a rest for a while.”


As soon as he started to work, he fell in love with a girl called Nora. they could not buy an apartment so we offered for to live with us.

Later, Rabia and Nora immigrated to Canada then they immersed themselves in work. They worked as heavy as the heavy rain in Canada. Over the years their heart became as hard as the rocks.

I whispered to myself, “ I’m like a tree in my country, it takes me years to grow and give  fruits before exporting them to another country, where all things can be bought even my dearest son, Rabia. He grew inside me for nine months,  I owned his soul and his body. He was in good hands, I took care of him for thirty years, I was his first friend, I dedicated all my life to making him happy, he had enjoyed with my delicious home cooked, he had enjoyed my company. I had covered him with my blanket in the  cold. I had done  my best.
Right now, I’m useless to him, he left me, stabbed me in the back, left me with my loneliness. My education was a real flop, my dream was disappeared, I felt down in the dumps. I live with it. I’m as that tree which lost fruits and its roots dried, they expected me to die.” The tears fell down my cheeks.

 

 

Later, my husband Nour died. I buried with him all my happy memories. It was no laughing matter. I have nothing to live for. I have lost the nearest person to me and all loving things in my life. My life is empty and soulless. I have nothing to live for. I want to die too.

For God’s sake, One hope that I have to achieve before that time  is to see my son, my heart, my life, Rabia, beside me, speak with him, listen his voice, talk together about his childhood, touch his hands, kiss him on his head, hug him so tightly, as much as I can then I would the happiest Mother in the world.

©2015 Dakir Abderrahmane

Author's Note

For your comment, I 'll feel well....

Reviews

[Helena]

A beautiful write indeed. The empathy you have shown with a man's view on what a Mother might feel in these circumstances is remarkable.

I enjoyed this story......sadly this a situation that happens many times in a Mother and Father's life. You wake up one day and the children you loved cared for with your heart and soul have disappeared or are absent from your life due to many circumstances.

Well done....thanks for sending my way.

Kind regards

Helena :)

P.S. Thought I would put this comment where it should have gone the first time!! :)

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you Helena for reading. I enjoyed your comment.

[Frozen Eyes]

Beautiful story and true to its title.
Just one suggestion though are you translating your pieces from some other language?
If yes please get them editted before you share as the grammar errors can kill the interests of the readers.
If you originally write in english language only then please work a little more on the spellings and grammer.
I like the thoughts you present. will be looking forward to read more. Thank U :)

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much Frozen Eyesfor reading and for your comment.

[Fae]

There are quite a few spelling, sentence structure and grammar errors in this piece which makes it difficult to read. Though the story is interesting, these language barriers make it difficult to decipher, and also leave some sentences out of place, which breaks the atmosphere of the story. There's not a lot of characterization in the story, which leaves it less interesting than it could have been had the characters seemed more real. I'd recommend exercising the "showing, not telling" rule to liven up the writing.

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much Fae for reading and for your comment.

[MomzillaNC]

This is a very sad and rather tragic write. It needs a lot of copy editing for grammar and language application. If you get a good editor to help with this, it could be a very good essay/commentary.

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much MomzillaNC for reading and for your comment. I promise you I'll edit it be my teacher.

[MomzillaNC]

You're welcome.

I'm not qualified to be anyone's teacher. I recommend you pick up a copy of the LITTLE, BROWN HANDBOOK. It's still in publication and still a great grammar text. It's the grammar textbook I used when I was still in school. I also recommend you read really well written authors. I find P.G. Wodehouse, Georgette Heyer, and Peter Mayle to be among the best writers around; you won't find a grammatical error or never any punctuation out of place. There are many, many more; those three are just among my favorite authors. By reading great literature, you become accustomed to seeing language written a certain way and naturally write that way yourself.

"Writers write always. Great writers read, then write."

[Confuser]

She gave everything to her son, humm; her entire identity was with her son. I thought it was very sad; but then if you cannot be a good mother what else is there. It seems to me she raised a son to be independent and he left; I like the story but to me the moral here is you can have friends and family members and still be a good mother. I think a Mother should stay home and take care of her son, but also have an extended life...I'm babbling...sorry, sleepy. I enjoyed it. Something to think about. Thank you.

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much Confuser for reading and for your comment.

[Confuser]

You are welcome & Thank you - I did think about it more. Great work.

[Confuser]

You are welcome & Thank you - I did think about it more. Great work.

[Avinash]

Hello Dakir, Like earth a mother loves her son without any expectation. It all depends on which plants and how you grow them return you the fruit. A good son will never leave his mother alone and goodness is a mother's gift to her son. Parenting is no easy business. It needs a lot of hard work, it is not just doing what your child needs but imbibing best qualities into your children so that when they grow they do not forget their roots.

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much Avinash I'me agree with you but we can't gave her a love that she expect if we are immagrate to far country.

[Coyote Poetry]

A very interesting story. A love of mother is never forgotten. I like the woman in the story. Living for others and needing attention. The simple things are missed. A day at the park, the laughter and family meals. Thank you for sharing the story. I wanted to read more.
Coyote

[Abderrahmane Dakir]

Thank you very much Coyote Poetry like your comment

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.