Today I went with my mother to stay the night at my aunt’s house. On the way, we stopped by a few new shops in her town. One of them was a toy store that had just opened, conveniently across the street from the pizza place where we ordered dinner. While waiting for our food, we wandered inside.
Maybe it’s because I’m older now, but I’ve started to cherish these small outings with my mother. When I was younger, I carried so many expectations of what a mother should be—protective, nurturing, steadfast. She didn’t always live up to those ideals, and some of my childhood was more painful than it should have been. But adulthood has changed the way I see her. I no longer need her to be the perfect mother. I no longer rely on her the way I once did. And strangely, that makes it easier to simply enjoy her company. It’s not an excuse for poor parenting, but in a way I’m finally allowing our relationship more breathing room by letting go.
She has this habit of putting on the most ridiculous glasses in stores—heart-shaped ones, oversized butterfly frames, anything thats over-the-top. I roll my eyes, but I laugh too. Despite the messy past, she still spoils me in little ways. She insists on buying me stuffed animals as though I were still seven, and I don’t argue—I happily accept them(sometimes).
The toy store itself was wonderful. Shelves lined with squishables, rare imports from Japan, anime figurines—honestly, they had everything. My favorites were the displays of Stitch collectibles and the plump little Pusheens, each one radiating its own brand of cuteness. I left the store grinning like a child even without purchasing anything.
Earlier, on the way to my aunt’s, we even stumbled across a mini wildlife demonstration that included a live owl. My mother had been in a sour mood for most of the day, but she lit up when we stopped. Funny how quickly her spirit shifts, especially when paired with a sudden rain shower.
The rain made the air heavy, sticky, almost suffocating at times. Yet every now and then, a breeze slipped through—cool enough to whisper of fall’s arrival. I kept imagining myself walking alone down those streets with an umbrella, the world softened by raindrops. One of these days, I think I’ll do exactly that.
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