He liked how his mother always had stories to tell. If not about her days in the military, then the places she had visited. Places he dreamed of going to someday—the ruins, the cities, the natural wonders, all the territories previously uncharted. On occasion, she would relate anecdotes about her compatriots—his father included—which she insisted were true, no matter how outlandish, or her collection of bugs and photos and flowers and all the other mementos of past and present so meticulously cataloged that for any of them to be misplaced seemed like a distant possibility.
She remembered everything in great detail, so much that he wondered if she actually needed to write them down, all of them, despite disliking the idea of publishing them. She had always been modest, as Aunt Essex said before.
"But what if you suddenly lost all your records?" He asked once.
"Well, I could recall them from memory, I believe."
"...But, what if you...somehow lost them, too?"
She turned pensive for a moment, then a satisfied smile graced the corner of her lips as she pushed her glasses up by the bridge.
"Well, that would be too bad, wouldn't it? Maybe I could do nothing about it. But I will hold onto the memories of my greatest adventure with all my might, even if I had to lose everything else."
She had never spoken of this "greatest adventure" before, as if she was saving it for last until the end. It was only natural for him to be curious.
"...Really? I never heard of your greatest adventure before."
"Hehe. Yes, sonny. All those stories I told you? They could never compare to this paradise, this unknown haven. The excitement...the thrills, the memories. Even the tears. The best thing is, I'm not done with it."
"You're not done yet?"
"Oh, not by a long shot. We..."
He could've sworn his mother had never looked at him that way before. So intense, so adoring.
"Yes, we still have a long way to go. And I love every second of it."
She then laughed. As always, it was a wonderful laugh, never exaggerated, always sincere.
"Really? Can you tell me just a bit about it?"
"...Hmm...how about that it started with a treasure?"
"Oh! A treasure! What kind of treasure?"
"A fine one, but not one you find with maps and charts and keys. It's more of a...gift."
"What kind of gift?"
"Well, let's see..."
His mother took his little hand into her own, her warmth spreading through him, her fingers curling around him, gentle, loving.
"Yep, it's precisely this."
He didn't get it at all, but he liked the affection.
"Mom, that doesn't sound like an adventure."
"Ah, believe me, it is really the greatest."
"Oh, oh, so, can you tell me a bit more? Juuuust a bit?"
"There's so much to tell, and you'd probably know them all already, son. Perhaps in the future, you'll see more."
"Okay..."
"Now, now, don't give me that face, son," she pinched his cheeks playfully.
"Come on, Mom! Maybe...like, how do you think it will end?"
She had that smile again, only it seemed to have become a touch bigger. He couldn't see it but could feel it.
"Hopefully it will end with you growing up to become a wonderful man with a bright future ahead of you. And that's when I will rest easy."
"Will it take long?"
"Oh yes, very. But we're together in this, aren't we? There's no need to worry."
He was beginning to understand.
"Yes!"
His hold on his mother's hand grew tighter.
"It's a promise!"
She chuckled, and she held his hand, too, even tighter.
"Yes, I promise."
And thus, their day went by.
