I couldn't really understand what was wrong with Mama. … She couldn't do anything. All she did was lie in bed and smile sadly at me, apologizing all the while. I didn't like it one bit. Why couldn't she play in the snow with me anymore? Why didn't she tease Daddy like she used to? At this time, I was only around five, so I couldn't quite grasp what was going on. Unsure, I would look to Daddy for an explanation. However, all he could do was cater to her whims, and try to appease her. It was clear, then, that whatever was affecting Mama was affecting him too.

And I hated her for it.

I hated her for being as weak as she was and as sad and pathetic as she was. It was because of Mama that things were going downhill. Daddy was wasting away from all the care and attention she needed, and it caused him great pain. At times, he wouldn't even give a glance to me, no matter what I did to get his attention. I cried for their love and care also, but Mama didn't move from her bed and Daddy… He just seemed so thin and so pale (Well, more so than usual). At times like this, I would glare at her sleeping form and demand mentally, 'Why are you doing this?! Why are you hurting Daddy? Why don't you pay attention to me anymore?!'

'… Don't you love me anymore?'

Then, one day, instead of the pale, lusterless woman that had once been my Mama, there was an empty shell. Her painful, dark eyes were now closed, her pink lips pale, and her chest unmoving. I can remember when I saw her. Upon opening the door to her room, I stopped, feeling something different had occurred. My eyes traveled around the bedroom, trying to discern the difference. They finally landed on her all-too-still form. I don't remember much from then on, but from what Uncle Cid tells me (he had babysat me for the rest of the day), I was quiet and wouldn't speak for the longest time.

My Mama, the infamous ninja who had saved the world twice, had died.

Upon learning that, I cried. I cried until I was sure there were no more tears inside of me left to shed. I wept until I was dry and aching inside. She caused Daddy and I so much pain that my anger and hate grew. It wasn't until the burial of Mama that I was set straight. I confessed my hatred of Mama, and Daddy's wine colored eyes looked at me with a mix of shock, sadness, and wonder.

I told him, "It's all her fault! Mama didn't love me… she left us all alone!" Daddy, gentle and quiet, held me. I was confused. I didn't want to be coddled. I wanted and explanation! After breaking free from his arms, I stared angrily up at him. He was quiet for a few seconds before he finally spoke. He told me that Mama wasn't one to do things easily. She was stubborn, and when she set her mind on doing something, she would do it. That was why when she got sick she didn't go to hospitals for treatment. She wanted to spend as much time with her child and her husband as she could. But, as time went on, it only got worse for Mama. My child mind could finally grasp something of what was being said.

Mama loved. She loved so much it killed her. She had sacrificed her life and future to stay with us. And I treated the beautiful gift she had given us like a curse. I let her love go to waste. I'm sure she was in such pain… Now, when I think back on it, I'm not surprised at my actions. But I will never repeat them. Because a mother's love is the most precious of all gifts.

Thank you, Mama. Thank you for loving me.