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My mind flashed back to an episode of my life.
I remember the setting, I remember the mood. I remember most things that matter.
An event I believe I will always commit to memory.

When I was little, I was curious about most things, one evening I begged mom to let me make jelly on my own. Wanting to do my best to impress her, I took the prettiest (expensive) glass bowl, (and I think it’s her favourite too) to present the soon-to-be-made-jelly-that-i-can-proudly-say i-made-it-myself. Little did I know that I was not born to be like Martha Stewart. Once I cooked the mixture, I poured out the boiling hot mixture immediately; a nice crack formed a ring around the bowl, cutting it into half. I freaked out**… heart was pumping at the rate … hands are shaky, and I could hear mom just came out from shower, at that very minute.
The moment was intense, my fear personified, my heart pumping so fast, I felt as if I have committed the worst sin ever. I apologize and anticipated for the worst reprimand. But her incessant words of care, howareyou, didyoucutyourself, didyouburnyourhands, areyoualright, tellmewhereithurts?
I was more than consoled. Shame on me, thinking I am a little lower compared to the bowl she loved, I was so wrong. *

Today reminded me of that day.
I broke a glass, the same emotion run through me. Shocked and scared, but I am a big girl now. I need to be able to take care of myself. I have to.

*I am a lil' teary eyed now thinking back. It was the kindest act. Even though by default she is my mom but the sincerity in it was overwhelming. It has permanently etched into the deepest of my heart. I try each time to find the same kindness, the same kind of caring that would rocked me to my core, again.

**you wont know how terrified I can be of being cut by knife and glasses etc. thoughts of my flesh sliced into two, the bright red blood brings shiver down my spine. I can tell you I witnessed it before – not a pretty sight. Especially the pain after when the sedative wears off.