I am sorry and thank you

I'm sorry, my sons. Please try to understand your mom, who couldn’t always be “cool.”

I know I can’t be the kind of “cool” person you like. When it comes to anything about you, I can’t stay calm. I react like a fish flopping around on a cutting board.

I speak gently and kindly to others, and even to you, but when I talk to your dad, my voice suddenly becomes harsh and sharp without meaning to. And when it’s something about you two, I get overheated and emotional — I can’t help it.

Do you remember? On the way to your swimming class, I suddenly remembered we forgot your swimsuit. In my rush, I ran a stop sign and caused a car accident. Or that time we were driving to Boy Scouts, and when you called out, “Mom~” from the back seat, I stopped the car too suddenly and got hit from behind. All three of us ended up in the hospital, and your dad came running in shock. When it comes to you two, I completely lose control — like a mother chicken clucking for her chicks.

I once heard a story about a mother and son where the son said, “If Mom follows me to the East Coast, I’ll apply to schools on the West Coast instead — please don’t follow me.” I thought, “What kind of mother does that?” But then I realized... I may not follow you physically, but in my heart, I’m no different from that mom. It was so hard for me to stop myself from becoming a “helicopter mom.”

Thank you both for visiting me yesterday. I was tired and lying down, but when I got the call that you were coming, I suddenly felt full of energy. I jumped up and made dinner quickly and easily. You two give me strength, joy, and courage. Just seeing you brings me energy I didn’t know I had. But I promise not to call too often or ask you to visit all the time — I know you're busy. If you come, I’ll be happy. If you don’t, I won’t be upset. Just live your lives fully and well.

After you left, I lay down again, tired, and started thinking. Have I treated you two differently without realizing it? Have I loved or supported one of you more than the other? I’ve tried my best to be fair to both of you. But if there’s anything I said or did that made you feel otherwise, please tell me.

Thank you, my sons. When you were little, I struggled to dress you properly. When you asked for toys, I often pretended not to hear. I could barely afford a few months of guitar lessons, but even so, when I heard soft guitar music coming from your rooms, I smiled quietly.

I still feel guilty for feeding you too much Spam and fried eggs when I was too tired to cook properly. But then you said you don’t even remember — that made me feel even more sorry, and also so grateful.