10/05/2026
๐๐จ๐ญ๐ก๐๐ซโ๐ฌ ๐๐๐ฒ โ ๐ ๐๐๐ฆ๐จ๐ซ๐ฒ ๐๐ซ๐จ๐ฆ ๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ซ๐ฌ ๐๐ ๐จ
Twenty-two years ago, I was a young house officer, still trying to understand what it truly meant to care for another human life.
I remember sitting on the edge of a double-decker bed in the on-call room at 4:30 in the morning. I had just walked in after conducting my seventh delivery of the night. My hospital scrubs were stained with splashes of liquor and sweat, my legs were aching, my eyes heavy from exhaustion. It had been one of those endless calls where the labour room never slept.
โWhy do all the mothers choose to come during my on-call night? Why not during the daytime, when there are more staff, more colleagues aroundโฆ so I wouldnโt feel this tired?โ
( ๐ต๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐๐, ๐๐ฃ๐๐๐ฆ ๐๐-๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ . ๐โ๐๐๐ ๐ค๐๐๐ ๐๐๐โ๐ก๐ ๐ค๐๐กโ๐๐ข๐ก ๐ ๐๐๐๐, ๐๐๐๐๐๐ค๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ฆ ๐๐ฆ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ก ๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ โ๐๐๐ก ๐๐๐๐ 8๐๐ ๐ก๐ 5๐๐. ๐๐๐๐๐ก๐๐๐๐ , ๐คโ๐๐ ๐ผ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ฆ ๐๐๐๐โ๐๐ โ๐๐๐, ๐ผ ๐ค๐๐ข๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ก๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐ ๐๐ฆ ๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐ก๐ก๐๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐ข๐๐๐๐๐ค๐๐๐๐๐ฆ ๐ ๐๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐๐๐ข๐โ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐ก๐๐๐ ๐๐๐โ๐ก. ๐ผ ๐ค๐๐ข๐๐ ๐ค๐๐๐ ๐ข๐ ๐๐ก 2 ๐๐ 3๐๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐๐๐ฅ๐ก ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐, ๐ ๐ก๐๐๐ ๐ค๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐กโ๐ ๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐กโ๐๐ ๐๐๐ก๐๐ 36 ๐๐ฅโ๐๐ข๐ ๐ก๐๐๐ โ๐๐ข๐๐ .)
I thought I understood what hardship was.
But that particular night changed something in me.
As I sat there silently complaining in my mind, I suddenly realised:
โOh noโฆ itโs Motherโs Day.โ
I had missed it.
I did not even manage to call my mom with my old broken Sony Ericsson phone that could only function on speaker mode. (As a junior doctor, I was always afraid of being seen doing personal things while on duty.)
Finally, when the chaos settled and I managed to lie down for a short rest, memories of my mother flooded my mind.
I remembered her raising five boys almost single-handedly while my father worked tirelessly to provide for us. I remembered her constant scoldings, our mischievous childhood moments, the canings we deserved, the laughter, the noise, and the endless sacrifices hidden behind ordinary days.
I remembered how she would clean the house every single day without fail โ sweeping, mopping, cooking, washing, tidying everything while still taking care of all five of us.
I remembered the little garden filled with overgrown grass that she used to clear herself, even when we complained about helping her.
And even today, at the age of 70+, she still tries to do many of those things on her own.
Lying there in the dim light of the on-call room, those memories felt so vivid - as though they had only happened yesterday.
And that night, I cried.
Maybe it was exhaustion. Maybe it was guilt for missing Motherโs Day. Or maybe, for the very first time in my life, I truly understood what it meant to be an adult.
Because being a parent is not easy. Being a mother is even harder.
Today, as a father myself, I finally understand.
We no longer live only for ourselves.
Every sacrifice we make, every sleepless night, every worry, every decision โ it is all for our children, our family, and the generations that come after us.
Parents carry dreams they may never speak about openly. We quietly endure hardship so our children can walk on a smoother path. We work tirelessly to give them a better beginning, a safer future, and opportunities we never had.
And now I realise - that was exactly what my parents were doing all along.
My mother gave us love through sacrifices we were too young to notice. My late father gave us security by making sure there was always food on the table.
As children, we often only remember the scoldings. As adults, we finally understand the love behind them.
๐๐จ ๐ฆ๐ฒ ๐ฆ๐จ๐ฆ : ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ฆ๐ท๐ฆ๐ณ๐บ ๐ด๐ข๐ค๐ณ๐ช๐ง๐ช๐ค๐ฆ ๐ต๐ฉ๐ข๐ต ๐ธ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ต ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ด๐ฆ๐ฆ๐ฏ. ๐๐ฉ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฌ ๐บ๐ฐ๐ถ ๐ง๐ฐ๐ณ ๐ค๐ข๐ณ๐ณ๐บ๐ช๐ฏ๐จ ๐ข๐ญ๐ญ ๐ฐ๐ง ๐ถ๐ด ๐ต๐ฉ๐ณ๐ฐ๐ถ๐จ๐ฉ ๐ญ๐ช๐ง๐ฆ ๐ธ๐ช๐ต๐ฉ ๐ด๐ต๐ณ๐ฆ๐ฏ๐จ๐ต๐ฉ, ๐ฑ๐ข๐ต๐ช๐ฆ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฆ, ๐ข๐ฏ๐ฅ ๐ถ๐ฏ๐ค๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ฅ๐ช๐ต๐ช๐ฐ๐ฏ๐ข๐ญ ๐ญ๐ฐ๐ท๐ฆ.
๐จ๐๐
๐๐ ๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐
๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐
:.
Happy Motherโs Day.
The world may never fully understand everything a mother silently endures for her childrenโฆbut many of us spend the rest of our lives finally realising it.
