Mother sighed and said, “That’s good. You have always been clever since you were a child. Although I didn’t understand you, I always trusted you. These days, I can’t help but think of you when you were a child, so cute and beautiful. I’m really afraid that I won’t be able to see you before I die, after treating you the way I did.”

　　“What are you talking about, Mom?” I looked around and asked, “You live in such a big house all by yourself? Why haven’t you hired a maid?”

　　She shook her head and said, "You don’t have to change the subject. Let me ask you, do you hate me? Well, even if you do, it’s okay. I hated my way through life. I was married to your father for so many years until he died. We never sat at the same table for a meal.

　　"Women are busy preparing meals, and then they have to squat alone to eat, while men eat and drink at the main table. Hehe, I know this is custom, but I didn’t have the ability or courage to break it.

　　"Unlike you, for the sake of so-called freedom and equality, you can go against your whole family and wander alone in the big cities. Wei, sometimes I think you’re ridiculous, but sometimes I think you’re happy. I even envy you because you live the life I want to live but dare not. I can’t help but feel inferior when I see you, and maybe that’s where my resentment and hostility towards you come from."

　　She continued, "I detest the idea of favoring boys over girls, but I ended up living this way and became its defender. Your father and I both saw you as a liability. If it weren’t for your grandfather insisting, we wouldn’t have let you go to school. Your father passed away suddenly without leaving a will. Your brother and I were worried that you would want to split the inheritance, so we spoke ill of you and even cut off contact with you. But now that I think about it, you never really cared about money."

　　She paused and let out a sigh. “Don’t blame me for being biased. Women have to take their husband’s surnames and bear and raise children for others. Having so much money is pointless. I have already made a will for this house, and I intend to leave it to your brother.” She looked dejected, lowered her head, and couldn’t look at me.

　　I smiled, took my mother’s hand, and said to her seriously, "Mom, people are constantly growing, and every stage has different experiences. If I say I have never hated you, then I would be lying. But at this moment, I really don’t have any hatred toward you. I understand your choices. If I had the same family background and experiences as you, perhaps I would have made the same choice as you. I know you have done your best, and you have always been yourself. So don’t feel guilty. You haven’t done anything wrong.

　　"You were a good wife, taking care of my father’s daily life, caring about his health, keeping him away from worries. You were also a good mother, guiding my brother and me in your own way. Without you, I would never have had the courage to step out of my home and live truly free! You are my teacher, the person who gave birth to me and raised me, and I’m grateful to you. The past is past, the present is now, and the future will be too!"

　　“Oh, dear honey.” My mother was so excited that her hands were shaking. She hugged me tightly again and burst into tears. I hugged her tightly. Her embrace was so warm that I couldn’t help but smile happily.

　　Every moment in our lives is a miracle. It is not just a concept, but a fact. If you think otherwise, I suggest that you carefully examine your own mind to see which beliefs are obstructing you from living authentically. Miracles are right in front of your eyes. They don’t need to be flashy, extraordinary, or supernatural. They are your life, your every move. From dressing up to eating, and even every breath you take is a symbol of it.

　　Two weeks have passed in a flash. My mother’s health has deteriorated rapidly along with her capricious emotions. She takes a large number of painkillers during the day and needs sleeping pills to fall asleep at night. She would suddenly point at me and shout, calling me a jinx. After a while, she would cry and apologize to me.

　　My brother and sister-in-law have visited three times. They took just a quick glance before leaving with disdain and disgust in their eyes. Every time my brother visits, he reminds me to call him once he notices that our mother is about to pass away. The urgency in his expression and tone makes me feel like I’m just closing a deal with a businessman.

　　Whenever my brother returns home, Mother would cry and feel sad, as if she was triggering some kind of magical mechanism that couldn’t be stopped. But once he left, she would instantly calm down and start talking to me about how lovely, sensible, and filial my brother used to be.

　　It’s just my mother and me in the house. I cook, brew medicine, change and wash clothes, and clean her body and room for her. I sleep with her every night, humming nursery rhymes to accompany her to sleep. I feel extremely grateful that we can be so intimate with each other! In the past, it was my mother who took care of me. Now we have swapped roles. She has become the “baby,” and I have become the “mother.” That’s how miraculous life is.

　　“Mom, you can watch TV at home first. I’ll go out and buy some food and cook something delicious for you at noon.” I got up from the couch and said to my mother with a smile.

　　She frowned and said, “No need to buy. There are plenty of vegetables in the fridge. Don’t waste anything.”

　　“There are only a few kinds of vegetables left in the fridge. Besides, the meat has been frozen for too long and is no longer fresh. I’ll be back soon. You stay home and wait for me, okay?”

　　She glared at me. “How can you talk to your mother like that? I’m not a child. I’ll give you money later.”

　　I ran to the door quickly when I saw her about to get up. “Mom, I have money. You don’t have to give me any. You watch TV at home.”

　　She turned off the TV with the remote and shook her head. “What am I going to watch when you’re gone? I’ll just pause the DVD on the couch for a while and wait for you to come back. Then we can watch it together.”

　　I nodded with a smile. “OK, I’ll be going now. You rest for a while.”

　　Walking out of the house, I couldn’t help but remember my childhood. I loved watching cartoons. My biggest wish was to have my mother watch them with me, especially those that I had already watched and felt were good.

　　Perhaps it was a psychological need for recognition. But my mother never watched them with me because they weren’t her cup of tea, and she found them boring. I was disappointed at first and hurt that she kept saying “no” to me. I even vowed not to speak to her again.

　　But after a while, I forgot about my vow and began to want to read books, listen to music, and watch TV with her again. Now my mother has become me back then. She spends most of her time watching TV. We have a lot of dramas and movies on DVD that she’s already seen. She would happily grab me to watch them with her, telling me the exciting parts and pointing out the flaws.