The morning sun has reached my window pane causing me to wake up much earlier than my usual waking hours. I hurled out myself from the bed and have some little stretching, replenishing lost energies from yesterday’s work. Soon after, I noticed the bulky clothes basket, full of dirty laundries in one corner of my room and from that I knew a busy day is coming…
I poured a cup of coffee and wolfed over a meal to prepare myself for what I consider a drudgery (the washing of clothes).Of all the tasks I ever hated, doing the laundry tops them all. Battling the back pains of long hours of sitting can be so daunting that if there’s just enough money to pay for the laundry shop, then I resort to it. Unluckily, fate seemed to be unfavorable for me that I should have to deal with the hardship of this task since paying an extra is not an integral part of my expenses.
As I tried with all might convincing myself to start this job earlier so I could finish it before time, a wave of thoughts started pouring on my mind. Had I known ways of loving this task, I could have enjoyed it more like my Mom who does it cheerfully amid of the many dirty laundries she needs to finish. Though she looks drawn overworked still she smile, conveying a thought that everything is easy when you feel like doing so. I idled myself a minute longer until a surge of nostalgia transported me back in time, luring me from yesterday when I’m still a dependent and unproductive brat. All is well back then because my Mom busied herself doing things for me. She even handled my personal things like that of my under shorts. Funny to tell isn’t it? But that’s how she flaunts her care for me. My Mom has always been an epitome of sacrifice and from her rough and calloused hands you can tell how tied up she’d been.
Having begun my life independently I then started to realize how hard it is for her to clean someone else’s mess when I myself whimper by doing just mine. Now, I’m on her shoe, feeling exactly how hard were the stuff she’d been doing for us. The only difference is that she never acted as if she’s tired or grumbled like what I usually did.
Indeed, there’s a lesson from this simple yet exaggerated problem and that was developing sort of empathy and setting positive perspective towards any task.