Mater
Good. Utterly simple, utterly true. That's how I've been feeling ever since I left that "package" on mama's bed. There's a story behind every story, and sometimes those are the ones that are worth telling.
When I was about 10 or 11 my mom bought a guitar as a present for my sister. Turns out li'l sis wasn't all that keen on learning how to play the instrument; she would usually leave the guitar inside our common cabinet, which should have started to collect dust had it not been for sneaky ol' me who kept taking it out in the afternoons, strumming it as if I knew how to play, pretending to be a deranged rock god. My mother eventually caught me and asked me why I was using my sister's guitar without permission; I simply said I wanted it. From that time on she began teaching me how to play the instrument. I got hooked. The rest is history.
Fast forward into the future. I mean the present. Whatever. My mom has been getting depressed lately because of work, household expenses, midlife crisis, decreased hormone levels and other stuff related to growing old. One day she told me she was saving up for an acoustic guitar. The type that had nylon strings. Her old one was given away a long time ago, and the one I'm using now had steel strings that were too stiff for her. I asked her why she wanted to get a guitar, and she said she wanted to find herself again. I didn't pry into her thoughts anymore, she was close to tears. All I knew was that I had to get her that guitar, no matter what. I was saving up for something else (an Ibanez electric guitar- for myself, hehe) but I realized it had been a long time since I bought her something really special. I also realized I've been too immersed in self-gratification that I didn't have time to figure out what my loved ones want; I never even bothered to care.
Yesterday, after attending mass I went and searched for a guitar that would suit mama's playing style. It should be medium-sized, something with a simple and feminine design, a light-colored surface, and most importantly it should have strings that aren't too high above the fretboard. I finally found one I thought was perfect for ma. I bought it and left the store.
When she finally saw it she shrieked like a giddy little girl (scary XP) and gave me what felt like a bear hug (couldn't breathe!). She was so pleased with it she immediately cut her long nails and played for about an hour before placing the guitar back in its case. I guess I did something right. I love my mom.
Mission accomplished. :)
