My mother was a worrywart
This story is part of a Mother's Day series by TNP
“I worry about you.”
Those were the last words my mum said to me before she died in 2022.
As the eldest of her three sons, it bothered me quite a bit. I thought that my role in the family was to alleviate my parents’ worries, not to be the cause for them.
She had similar sentiments when I first expressed an interest in journalism. As a former software engineer, she questioned my choice of studying communications instead of taking up computer science or business. To be fair, those were – and still are – much more lucrative fields to pursue a career in.
Despite her protests, I continued on the path to becoming a journalist, even securing an internship at TNP in 2012. I covered anything from the entertainment and lifestyle scenes to crime and heartland stories.
I thoroughly enjoyed myself and grew to crave the rush of getting a scoop.
One day, my mum asked if I had a story coming out in that morning’s paper. Apparently, she’d been buying issues of TNP (back when it was still a print-first publication) every day so that she could cut out my stories, laminate them, and compile the snippets in an album.
That’s when I realised what it really meant for my mother to worry. Sure, she would not agree with every decision I made, but she would always be proud of me nonetheless.
I stumbled upon the cut-outs of my TNP stories again this year while spring cleaning. Finding those newspaper clippings reminded me that when my mum said that she worried about me, that was just her way of saying that she loved me.
Thanks for worrying about me, Ma, I love you, too. Happy Mother’s Day.
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