Mom is always pondering the past and telling herself to do things she wants, but she does not dare to take a chance, even if it were handed to her on a silver plate.
All of my life, I have pondered why I lived the way I did. Each year, I always tell myself to do what I have put off for years on end, and yet I have not dared to do even a smidge of the work I desire to do. Even with all the chances I was given, I still did not take them, even if they were spoon-fed to me.
In her youth, she dreamed about many things, even though they were beyond her reach.
In my youth, I dreamed of being many things: an astronaut, a teacher, a scientist, and even a prime minister. Even if they were beyond my reach, I still pursued them as if they were my desires, my meant-to-be, and my goals. Not anymore, I'm far too old for anything else besides caring for my children.
Mom always tells us she's happy, but we see her looking out of the window and wonder what will happen if she changes her fate.
I loved them for what they were worth; nothing can ever be brought over them that I wouldn't climb over. But I can't say the same for myself; I loathe myself for not doing enough for both me and my children; I should've done more in my youth; I should've studied harder; and I should've taken the chances I saw with my own two hands. But now, I have nothing to grab besides regret.
She thinks chasing the world is a mad thing to do; it's too late for her to do it. Mom constantly thinks about the choices she makes.
I once chased my dreams until they had gone tired, but not anymore. I thought they were mad for something impossible to do. Now, I know, I was the madder for thinking so. I looked back to each step in my life and thought what life would be, but it was unless in the end.
Mom doesn't understand why we all try to persuade her to do things outside of her cage. We all love her, but she is afraid to change, which keeps her in her lonely, dark place.
I don't understand why my children are telling me to join them in their activities; maybe they are trying to help me. but why? They deserve a better mother—a mother who cares for herself, a mother who can become her dream, a mother who is worthy of her kin.
It doesn't matter now. I feel safe in my home; there is nothing that can hurt me—no bugs, no politics, no people, no war. It's just me and my past here.
I feel safe. No, I am safe.