Within moments of starting the sore sunday shift today, a teenage girl wearing a pink polka top walks into the store. She’s looking for a present for someone. “Someone special ma’am?” I enquire. She tells me it’s for her mother, I suggest her a bottle of perfume, and lead her to the fragrance section. After sampling a few perfumes she settles for a nice Hermes fragrance with jasmine and vanilla overtones.
“That’s a really nice fragrance ma’am, I’m sure she’ll love it”, I politely compliment her choice while making the invoice, “Is it her birthday today?” I ask.
“Oh, no, its mothers day today, so I thought it’ll be nice to gift her something”, says the girl.
As I put her perfume in the shopping bag, I start thinking about my own mother, the woman who taught me how to stand on my two feet, the woman who taught me to be strong in the most difficult moments and never give up in life. (and the woman who bought all my underwear till last year) I haven’t called her for weeks and spend most of my free time royally ignoring her emails and voicemails. A sudden fit of guilt hits me and I dial home. Mom answers and I realize that her voice is something I’ve been wanting to hear for decades. Suddenly her complaints and to do lists do not seem so bad...
Happy Mother’s Day Mom. Love you
PS: The girl in pink top, thanks! Hope your mother liked your gift…
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