A Sunday Morning Reflection: Gratitude for a Mother’s Love
It’s a quiet Sunday morning where I am, but my heart feels anything but still. Just moments ago, my wife sent me a photo of our newborn son. He’d just had his first bath, and the image of him, fresh and peaceful, brought a wave of emotions I can’t quite put into words. His tiny frame, wrapped in soft towels, radiated innocence and the promise of a life yet to unfold.
But what struck me most wasn’t just how adorable he looked. It was the thought of the woman behind the camera—his mother, my wife. Day in and day out, she pours her heart and soul into caring for him, often sacrificing sleep and comfort without a second thought. Her efforts are undeniably unconditional. She’s there, holding him through his cries, soothing him when he’s fussy, and making sure he’s fed, clean, and loved every second of the day.
As a husband and father, it’s humbling. Here I am, thousands of miles away, doing my best to provide for my family from overseas. But in moments like this, I’m reminded of the weight she carries on her own. The late nights, the early mornings, and everything in between. It’s a kind of strength that only a mother seems capable of.
I’ve often wished I could do more. I wish I could be there to take over for a few hours so she can rest. I wish I could witness these little moments in real-time—his first bath, his first smile, his first laugh. But instead, I’m here, on the other side of the world, trying to support in the only ways I know how. It’s a bittersweet feeling, one that comes with the territory of being an overseas worker and a parent.
What I’ve come to realize, though, is that love takes many forms. For my wife, it’s in the sleepless nights and the tireless care she gives our son. For me, it’s in the work I do, ensuring they have everything they need and more. And even though it feels like I’m missing out, moments like today remind me of why I’m doing this in the first place.
To my wife, I want to say this: I see you. Even from afar, I see your sacrifices, your patience, and your unconditional love. And while I may not be there physically, I am with you in spirit, rooting for you, admiring you, and loving you every step of the way.
To other fathers who might be in the same situation as I am, let’s continue to do our best. Let’s show our appreciation for the incredible women who make motherhood look effortless, even when it’s anything but. Let’s find ways to connect, support, and remind them that they’re not alone.
And to my son, one day when you’re old enough to understand, I hope you’ll see how much love surrounds you. From the mother who nurtures you daily to the father who dreams of the day he can hold you again.
This Sunday morning, I’m filled with gratitude—for my wife, for my son, and for the chance to witness, even from afar, the beauty of unconditional love.
IAMTITOTAKA