Life is full of surprises—you never know what will happen next, and you’ll never know when it will end.
That uncertainty has shaped my deepest fear. Not the fear of dying tomorrow, but the fear of losing the one person who has always been my light—my mom.
Mothers are often called the light of the home. And in our family, that couldn’t be more true. No matter what struggles we faced, my mom made sure my sister and I had something to smile about, something to hope for. She carried our burdens quietly, never hesitating to put us first.
I remember back in grade school, I was scared all the time—scared of the boys who bullied me on the street, scared of my drunk father shouting from the other room. I was never close to him. No deep talks, no bonding moments, not even the occasional joke. But my mom? She was always there. I still see her in the kitchen, cooking what little we had, making us laugh—even when I now know she hadn’t eaten just so we could.
I didn’t grow up like other kids. Being gay, I was bullied in school and on the streets—sometimes even by strangers. But never by her. She never made me feel like less. Never made me feel like I had to change. In a world that rejected me, my mother stood by me. She taught me that pain carries lessons—and that those lessons shape who we become.
She reminded me always: believe in yourself, even when no one else does.
Now, it’s 2025. I look in the mirror and hardly recognize the boy I once was. I’ve grown—older, stronger, bolder. But when I look at my parents, especially my mom, I see how time has left its marks: white hair, wrinkled skin, slower steps. And that fear I’ve tried to ignore? It creeps back in.
Still, she continues to guide me. She reminds me to stay grounded, to hold onto my dreams, and to never apologize for being who I am—even when the world tries to break me.
So these days, I don’t take anything for granted. Every laugh, every hug, every shared meal—I hold it close. I want to grow with her, not away from her.
Because life really is full of surprises. And while everything eventually ends, what we do with our time matters. No moment is too small. No “I love you” too late.
I will never forget the light of our home—Mom.