Does Your Superhero Also Throw Slippers?
The Resilience and Love Lessons from My Mother
During an online job interview, I was thrown an unexpected question, “Who’s your superhero?”. “My mother,” I replied without missing a beat. What made me reflect and also to write and share this here with you all. While many envision superheroes donning capes and soaring over skyscrapers, mine wields an arsenal of wise words and an unyielding spirit. And just for clarity, she’s not the apron-wearing type — she’d kill me if she thought I suggested otherwise! Haha.
Hey! Before I go on with my story, let this quirky writer clarify something about the 'slipper' bit. While the imagery brings a chuckle to many from similar cultural backgrounds, it’s all in good jest. Think of it as the symbolic equivalent of a parent’s playful, exaggerated 'I’ll count to three!' rather than anything more severe. Just as memes might exaggerate our experiences for a laugh, so do our nostalgic stories. All stories shared here are meant to reflect love, care, and the sometimes humorous ways our families express concern. And hey, isn’t it wonderful that each family has its own quirky language of love?
Now, for the main act — my evergreen superhero…
At 64, my mother truly embodies the idea that ‘age is just a number’. Imagine someone with enough energy to outshine any 30-something at a party. That’s her. With an infectious spirit, despite some health battles, she dances, travels, and fills any room with laughter.
“You little bitch…! Get back here!” — She said a hundred times
I can still hear her playful admonishments during our cheekier moments. Trust me, this woman could make a rock giggle. Heck, she’s more alive and kicking at 64 than I am at 35. She surely gives teenagers a run for their money!
There were mornings, typically after a late night with friends, when I’d groggily tell my mom that I was feeling “sick” and needed to sleep until late afternoon. Without skipping a beat, she’d march over to my window, fling it wide open, letting the bright sun shine directly onto my face and quip, “You’ve got 3 seconds to get up. Get out and live — it’ll pass!” And guess what? Most times, it really did pass. She had this magical way of diagnosing feigned illnesses. What did this teach me? Sometimes, a little nudge (or a burst of sunlight) is all we need to confront our lethargy and seize the day.
And oh, the classic trap I’d often fall into — announcing loudly, “There’s nothing to do!” Bad move. Really bad move. Within seconds, she’d magically appear, with that familiar gleam in her eyes, “Oh, you’re bored, are you? Come here, I’ve got just the thing!” And there it would be, a sink full of dishes beckoning me. A lesson learned the hard way: Never, EVER, tell a mother you have ‘nothing to do’. It’s a rookie mistake, one I made more times than I care to admit, but it taught me to always find something productive to do or at least, to keep quiet about my boredom!
And who could forget the classic hungry teen routine? When I’d lazily saunter into the kitchen and ask, “What’s there to eat?”, she’d shoot back with the ever-pragmatic, “Food.” Oh, but when I dared to dramatically lament — in the peak of my melodramatic teen years — that there was “nothing good to eat”, she would beckon me over, fling open the fridge door, and point to its contents, saying, “Nothing good? Look at this stocked fridge. Be grateful for what you have. There are so many out there going hungry.” Funny enough, history has a way of repeating itself. Nowadays, I find myself in a laughable déjà vu moment with my eldest daughter. The cycle continues! Haha.
Growing up, my mother’s childhood was a patchwork of resourcefulness and cheeky adventures. “I’m showing you the way, now it’s up to you.” She often echoed this sentiment as she told tales of her resourceful youth.
Sure, they weren’t the wealthiest family on the block — she didn’t have dolls, but she had imagination in spades. When a television set at home seemed like a distant dream, she’d get creative, clambering up to the roof just to get a sneak peek of the neighbor’s TV through their window. But what’s truly inspiring is that the same spirit of determination and resourcefulness didn’t stop at childhood antics. In her adult life, with that unwavering spirit, she, alongside my father, achieved far more than anyone could have predicted from those rooftop TV-viewing days.
My mother, with her vibrant mix of Portuguese and indigenous lineage, defines resilience. A tale as old as time, of love and challenges, she stood by my father. He had his battles with alcohol, decisions that shook our family core. But loyalty, I learned, isn’t guaranteed, even with blood ties. It’s a choice, made every single day.
She stands as our pillar and rock. She introduced me to the values of charity, compassion, and love. Consistently reaching out, she’s perpetually at the forefront, helping and caring. As for Dad? Despite their tumultuous history, she has always viewed him as her partner in crime — the peanut butter to her jelly. And even today, although they haven’t been a couple for years, that bond persists.
Now, embarking on the rollercoaster ride of life, we experienced our peaks — such as those grand birthday trips from Brazil to Disney in the 90s, which symbolized the zenith of our good times. However, we also faced deep troughs, especially when Dad’s challenges weighed heavily on our finances. But even in those testing times, something as simple as chicken wings paired with chocolate milk for a birthday gift felt as regal as any grand feast — all because it was presented with heartfelt love.
When I became a mother at 17, I was met with a whirlwind of judgment from those around me. While Mom might have been upset and shed countless tears, she never wavered in her support. She consistently reassured me: “We stand together. Always.” And true to her word, she was my unwavering anchor through it all.
“True friends, family, stand by you even in the toughest times, holding your hand even if you’re in a hospital bed.” — she would say.
Geminis, known for their fire, and Cancerians, for their waves of emotions — a combination waiting for fireworks. We had our clashes, our tugs-of-war. Yet, looking back, it was all love — in stern words, shared jokes, even the silent moments.
Recently, as I navigated the complexities of motherhood, I realized just how much I’ve begun to mirror her. Those very phrases I swore I’d never utter? Well, they’ve now found their way into my daily vocabulary. In the end, I became the very person I once “feared” the most: my mother — the one I respect and admire above all.
“I’ll always have your back.” — she has said.
And so it has always been, still is, and always will be. I, too, Mom, will always stand by you.
“Parents need to know how to be parents, but children also need to know how to be children.” — she has said.
For all, thank you for all the sacrifices you’ve made for me and my brothers, for the sleepless nights, for the worries, for the solutions, for the open hand at every stage of my life. Thank you for being the incredible woman you are, for helping shape me into who I’ve become, and for being a wonderful grandmother.
My forever best friend. Thank you, Mom.
If this resonates with you, please feel free to share your thoughts and comments. ♥