Responsibility. Big word.

People have forgotten this truth,” the fox said. “But you mustn’t forget it. You become responsible forever for what you’ve tamed. You’re responsible for your rose.”  – Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince      

Responsibility. Big word.

I started to become responsible when I have my son in my life. Though I was quiver for a while, and took me a little way to escape, but still I was able to play the track again.

Before my husband left us for another woman, I became a full time wife. Though I didn’t enjoy it and came to a point of hating it, later I realized it was a good job after all. Taking care of your kids full time has always been a privilege for us mothers. It was a happy, hard, boring moments in my life, but I always feel grateful whenever I think about it.

When my marriage failed, I was left alone with my hand’s full of responsibility; our son, our credit card bills &  jobless! as if I was doomed to carry all the hardship in life without a taste of readiness.  I was afraid to wake up in the morning because I don’t know what to do, where to start & how could I go on.  I even tried to think it’s better to die then, but when I saw my son’s face sleeping peacefully beside me, I had woken up from my selfish deeds. Yes, I have to be responsible forever for what I have tamed, responsible for my son’s life.

Responsibility, big word, It is.

Because of that, I was able to pick up the pieces of myself one by one, slowly but considerably. I went through this kind of rebellion; school, drinking, work, drinking, boyfriends, and I treated my son as my last priority.

I always came home from work late and drunk. In that usual occasion, my Parents reprimanded me by locking all the doors and not wanting me to go inside. I even pee outside on our porch and vomited several times. I was such a difficult person at that time. Then one night, I went home bombed with alcohol, I was calling my Mother to open the door for me, unexpectedly, my son did. I was startled, so I stand straight, not wanting him to see my drunken face and asked him why he still awake. With sluggish and innocent look, he replied without hesitations; “’I’m afraid you couldn’t get in since grandma doesn’t want to open the door for you.”

I have believed since that night, I became his responsibility and he should be my top priority. I could no longer endure my pointless disposition, I almost forgot there was someone who always waited for me to come home, my little rose, my son, my responsibility.

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