When I was ten, my mother called me “Ah Girl” and I always responded to her. When I was fifteen, my mother called me “Ah Girl” in front of my classmates and I scolded her. When I was twenty, my mother still called me “Ah Girl” aloud and I ignored her completely. I know that, from her point of view, no matter how old I am, I will always be the “Ah Girl” who calls her “Mama”.
From my point of view, my mother is just an old woman in the house who lives with me. Her responsibilities are to make breakfast for me in the morning, give me money to spend in the day, do the laundry in the evening and switch off the lights at night. For all those things that she does, she will have the authority to scold me or ground me.
Until one day, she calls me and says, “Ah Girl, I’ve got cancer. I may die within the next six months.”
That is when I realize that my mother is more than that.