October, thinking about mom…

October is the month of Mother's Day. But it's not only in October that we think about our mothers, love them, and feel grateful to them. That sacred love that cannot be described by any pen or ink has followed us since childhood, nurturing us through the vicissitudes of life. "Even though I'm grown up, I'm still your child", and then one day, with my hair turning gray, I still miss my mother with my childishness: "Mom, I'm old now/I sit and miss you, crying like a child".

From literature, poetry, music , painting... in any artistic space, that maternal love, which is not at all exaggerated, is still present in a splendid, haunting and tormenting way. Each child may have their own idea of ​​their mother, but there is a common encounter: everyone grows up in their mother's arms, is cherished with lullabies, is cared for and cherished with heavy affection. Poet Nguyen Duy remembers his mother with a very ordinary and simple image: "Sitting sadly, remembering my mother in the past/Mouth chewing rice, tongue tricking fish bones"; so simple but then: "I go through my entire human life/Still cannot hear all the lullabies my mother sang...".

Mother, a humble and patient woman, a life of hardship and toil. Mother transformed into a stork, a heron hanging a hammock, swaying from summer to autumn, going through the cold winter nights "where the mother lies wet, where the child rolls dry" until holding the hand to teach the child to walk for the first time, feeding each spoonful of rice and porridge, hugging and comforting the child every time the weather changes... How many kindnesses can I tell you all? Therefore, like an instinct, the first call when I babbled was "mother"; when I grew up and went far away and struggled with life, through all the joys and sorrows, the first person I thought of and called out was also mother.

In my first dictation, without anyone telling me, I chose to copy the verses about my mother: “The sound of the cicadas is quiet/The cicadas are also tired because of the hot summer sun/My house still has the sound of “ah oi”/The creaking sound of the hammock where mother sits and lulls her to sleep…” (Tran Quoc Minh). Until now, I have never stopped being moved when I read those verses, and I often hum them when I comfort my child and listen from the bottom of my heart to a lingering love!

Mom, how much rain and sunshine have you carelessly covered your life, giving me a healthy figure.

Even though I know that one day, my mother will no longer be in this world. I have prepared myself for that, but I still cannot avoid the pain and shock. One year, two years, three years… and many years later, my mother has turned into a white cloud and leisurely ascended to heaven, but I have not had a single day of missing her.

If asked, which is the most beautiful song of life, there will certainly be a song dedicated to mother; which is the most haunting verse, there will certainly be a verse written about mother. Mother is a gentle folk song, deep, firmly anchored in the heart and soul of every child. We can forget many things in our life, but surely no one has ever forgotten mother, forgotten the lullabies imbued with love that she brought, nurtured, and nourished us with an eternal love.

How lucky and happy are those who still have their mothers, to have their mothers accompany them for a long time in life. Having a mother means having
all!

Ngo The Lam

Source: https://baodongnai.com.vn/van-hoa/202510/thang-muoi-nghi-ve-me-b591381/