She is not ordinary. For she is irreplaceable. When I’m too busy looking at stones, she’s the only diamond that I’ll ever need.

She is full of life, she herself is life. People would say that we, that I myself should live as if heaven’s on earth. Well, she’s a part of that heaven. For she is a beautiful soul. One kind of an angel sent from the skies and stars.

She is full of warmth. The loving kind of warmth that could mend heartbreaks and broken heartstrings. She could give me magical powers. Powers that could make me feel better today and greater tomorrow. A kind of surreal powers that could make me reach for the stars above me.

For all the things she’s gone through, for all the things she has sacrificed, I’m deeply grateful. For a life without her is by far beyond my imagination. I wished and only wished for her to always be full of life and love, here and after. For she is none other than my mother.

I don't speak much. Therefore, I write.
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