In the past I did so because I was young, because I had a lot of affection, because I wanted to meet the demands. Now I do so because of age, because of loneliness, because of saturation. My hands were full then. Now I am without work, with no pressing schedule anymore.
My children have migrated to different lands. We spend our days in two countries now. Part of the year we live in the country of our birth, but the major part in the country where our business is located. Recalling my erstwhile duties I feel exalted. My past was a stressful pleasure.
I discussed my experience with my children a little while ago. They enjoyed the narration and in between came out with the incidents which I had forgotten. They grinned and chuckled. Suddenly, to my despair, they broke into tumultuous laughter. I had never seen them in such high moods. I kept silent like a little girl ordered to keep quiet: "Put your finger on your lips."
The three of them looked at my posture. They came close to me, sat around me, held my hands, looked at my eyes, and said slowly, "Mama, we are going through the same phase now. We lose our patience now and then, but never once did we see you furious."
I brushed aside my tears and dragged the boys to my bosom. However old they might be they are still my sweet little boys, with velvety hair, big eyes, sharp noses, and broad mischievous grins.