To all the bemused mothers out there

You were content. That was for certain. But awkward all the same. You had expected the displays of love, reflection and demonstrations of gratitude because it’s the way your kids have been since Mother’s Day was inaugurated, but you can’t quite bring yourselves to come to terms with it yet. That’s not your fault, mums. How can the most natural love in the world be repaid in such a complicated way, anyway?

Of course, a lot of people say that every day should be Mother’s Day. That’s easier said than done. The unlikeliness of that is why TV commercials featuring workaholic, partying kids and their patiently waiting mothers still work every time. If we hugged our mothers every day, those TV ads wouldn’t get made or make anybody cry, right?

It’s rather selfish of us. Once a year, a family party or a visit to Don Hoi Lord seafood paradise and we hope you get the message of love. We know you never mind that, mums, even though some of you must know your children love you through snapshot TV interviews or Facebook postings. We need to pronounce our love for you, mums, to repay your unpronounced love for us.

Maybe it’s more about our guilt than our gratitude. Perhaps hugging you and taking you out on Mother’s Day is for our own souls instead of yours. That’s the big difference between us and you, mothers. You are willing to surrender so much for our sake. Maybe we “love” you primarily to make ourselves feel good.

But since all you want is for us to be happy, the awkward Mother's Day is absolutely relevant. Although few of you look at east at the family restaurants or in front of the TV cameras, you do it for us, again. You appeared calm under the spotlights or tried to enjoy the food. Even on the day we were supposed to be the givers of love, you out-loved us in a quiet manner.

It’s ironic, isn’t it? All the songs and poems basically say the whole sky is never big enough to describe your love for us. The payback, in that sense, must be something far greater than than a card and one “all-smiles” day, mustn’t it? Clumsy many of us are in trying to repay your love.

We will keep on with Mother’s Day. Yes, it spawns some commercial opportunities, but what doesn’t? To some of us, the day is a “reminder”. To others, it’s an occasion to groom an infant way of loving you into something better. The very existence of Mother’s Day is proof we are trying. Whether we will succeed is another matter.

The Mother’s Day things are the best we can do for now. What else can we do, mums, to be able to love the way you do? Some say forget about repaying your love, because it’s not meant to be repaid. Being good, or trying to be, will make you proud, and that should be enough. Is that so, mothers?

Being a “good child” is not as simple as it sounds. Should we try to reach for the stars, or should we envy those who don’t, but who stick around, hug you three times a week and always take good care of you? Some may be able to give the best of both worlds, but most of us aren’t. Or should we just be decent, independent human beings? Give us some clues, mums.

People say, “Have kids, and you’ll know.” That must be true, because many of the givers will one day become receivers. By the time we are at the receiving end of the bird’s nest baskets, you will probably be watching us from somewhere else. “Now, you know,” you may say then, smiling your warm smiles. We can only hope that when the answer hits home, it won’t be too late. In the meantime, by the way, we both have to settle for one side being awkward once or twice a year.

Love you, mums,

The children.