Mom stretches every penny, saves on anything and everything and keeps the money stashed up for us kids.
I just want Mom to enjoy life, live a little, indulge a little, splurge a little.
It's like we both stand at the different end of the bridge, spanning across a very wide gorge. Water under the bridge is roaring past, loud.
When are we moving to either side of the gorge together? Or when are we meeting each other in the middle of the bridge?
Guilt-ridden, I want to cry.
Happy Mothers' Day, Ma.