My Mother Is A Bigtime Liar

When we were still youngsters, my mother taught us that honesty was a virtue beyond measure and that lying was the darkest of paths. She preached to us the gospel of truth, proclaiming that dishonesty had no place in our lives. But as the years rolled by, the curtains of reality parted, revealing a different truth— my mother was a liar herself.

Her journey into the realm of unspoken truths commenced the day our father departed; a memory etched into my soul when I was a mere 12 years old. Amidst the tumultuous waves of grief that enveloped us all, it was my mother who bore the brunt of the tempest's fury. As we grieved the loss of our beloved father, I couldn't help but feel that the weight of his absence pressed most heavily upon her. While we were missing a parent, she had lost the other half of her very being. But my young heart couldn't perceive the cracks in her facade, for she concealed her pain with a grace that seemed superhuman.

I witnessed her quiet departure from our home, the earliest rays of the morning barely breaking. She embarked on that daily journey to work, not for herself, but to stand as our shield against the looming tempest of financial uncertainty. The bills, when they arrived like unwelcome guests, never found voice in our conversations, their weight carried in silence. In the shadows, behind closed doors, she waltzed with overdue payments, all to preserve our dignity and protect us from the bitter truths of our financial struggles. All the while, her voice held firm in its unwavering refrain, "It's alright, I can manage."

Luxuries were absent from our lives, and extravagant stuff were but a distant dream. She swapped luxury for herself for essentials, ensuring we had food on the table, clothes on our backs, and a roof over our heads. Amidst the innocence of youth, we were guided to always take the lead when it was time to eat, as our mother feigned satisfaction while ensuring we had enough. Her face bore the marks of sacrifice, hiding her own hunger to delight in our contentment, and all under the infamous lie, “It’s okay, I’m not hungry”.

Claims of endless energy for laundry and cleaning were whispered, but the wear on her hands, marked with callouses and scars, spoke of a different story. The unseen burden of maintaining a home rested heavily on her shoulders. Instead of resting after a long day’s work, my mother opted to serve us, help with our homework, and do the dishes after dinner – all under the lie, “It’s okay, I’m not yet tired”.

Oh, I remember how as a child, I would always want to go on school field trips! But times were tough, and financial limitations often stood in the way of field trips. Yet, miraculously, we were always included, thanks to her resourcefulness. Her sacrifices ensured our inclusion in events that shaped our lives, all under the great lie, “It’s okay, I’ll find a way to pay for your field trip”.

She'd caution against staying out late, urging us to stay with our friends if an outing ran late. In moments of frustration, she'd exclaim, "Do as you please, you're giving me a headache!" But even in those words, her concern and guidance were ever-present, a constant in our lives. Upon our return, no matter the hour, she was there, waiting for us.

It was only when I became an adult that the façade began to crumble, revealing the sacrifices my mother had made. As I look back on our journey, I am filled with admiration for the woman who bent the truth to provide for and protect her family. Her lies were not born of deceit but of love—love so profound that she was more than willing to bear the burden of falsehoods to shield her children from the harsh realities of life.

The lies my mother wove were not the deceptions I once thought. They were acts of love – sacrifices made in the shadows for the sake of our happiness. She may have bent the truth, but I understood the depth of her love. Gratitude fills my heart for the "deceptions" that paved my way. My mother’s lies are a legacy that is one of sacrifice, resilience, and unwavering love. Without any word from her mouth, she taught me that sometimes, lying is not a sin but an act of selflessness. It's a testament to the extraordinary lengths a mother will go to ensure the well-being and happiness of her children.

In a world where deception often carries a negative connotation, my mother’s lies were a testament to love and sacrifice. Her ability to provide for our family while sheltering us from the weight of life’s hardship was nothing short of heroic. It's a reminder that sometimes, the most profound acts of love are hidden behind a veil of deception, and a mother's love will always find a way to shine through, even in the darkest of times.