An unfortunate event happened to my mom yesterday. I know that bad people exists but I didn’t expect that they would target my mom. It’s different when these things that you’d normally see in the news happen to someone in your family. It’s so despiteful that I did wish these people would meet an accident and suffer a lot (I’m understating what I really felt).

If it’s hard for us siblings to accept what has happened, it’s even worse for my mom. Hatred and anger starts to seep in. I tried hard not to get those feelings into my way because I was in the office when my brother broke the news. I could imagine how my sister felt when she read my message early in the morning. When you hear sobs from your mom and your brother, distance doesn’t seem to matter.

A day has passed. I’m thankful I managed to get a sleep–I am sure it’s a different case for my mom. On the way to the office, the nightmare is less distressful. It still stings, I can’t deny that. But it dawned to me, a glimmer, not of hope but of gratitude: my mom raised our family well. She has formed this magnificent bond around her children. Something elastic that everyone is free to move and covalent that anyone can always rely on.

“Stay strong, there’s a rainbow after every storm.”