My First Mother

ogle_ad_section_start --> There was a timeand proudly handed her my little gift. Funny.
when I thought flowers were always attached toI would always notice an awkward grin in my
a romantic gesture. But today, apart from mymom’s face when I would give her my
girlfriend, I always give flowers to my mom. Mygift. At the time, I never knew what this meant,
mom always used to say that she will always bebut at an early age of four, a smile the shape of
my first girlfriend, and no one else can comea reversed coat hanger with the words “Very
before her. I can recall a memorable instancegood” or “How thoughtful” are words I
when I treated my mom to a big bouquet ofalways received with glee.
flowers.A few years passed and I remember my mom
The first was back when I was four. We had abringing up that memory during dinnertime. Later
family tradition in the house that my father wason, I found out from her that she didn’t
very particular with. To convince us that the valuelike the idea of me picking the flowers from the
of work was equated to how much we did, mygarden because she was trying to cultivate them.
father would give a small incentive for picking outIt was rather funny - she didn’t want to
the weeds in the garden. I remember it clearlyreprimand me for such a kind gesture, thereby
that for every weed pulled out from the garden,risking my developing a distorted sense of right
my dad would give five cents.and wrong. But what can a mother do, alas, but
That was cold hard cash in the Philippines back inappreciate this innocent gesture of mine?
the 80’s. I made sure not to pick theToday, I still give my mom flowers and she still
flowers. Or did I really, because after a while, Ihas that smile on her face. The only difference is
had that bright idea to give a “bouquet” ofthat now, I do not pick flowers from our garden.
flowers to my mom. And by a bouquet, I mean aI send them through a flower delivery service.
fistful of small flowers picked from the orchids inMore importantly, I now know the reason for her
the garden. After making my delivery of weedsawkward smile. Because every time I give her
to my father and collecting my twenty minutesflowers, she never fails to cry with tears of joy.
worth of pay, I made my way to my mother