My Sunshine

“Why did your parents choose to marry each other?” I asked, simply out of curiosity.

“Because they saw something in each other which no one else could.” That was what she said, and that was the moment I knew — no one could tug at my heartstrings like she did.

There was something about her nature — sensible, mature and rational but idiotic, childlike, and someone with endless empathy at the same time. The way she was, just by being her, intrigued me — how she would pray without directing the prayer to a certain God because she did not want to accidentally offend any, how her eyes held a sadness but a twinkling wonder at the same time, and how her nonsensical words meant so much to me.

She was everything and nothing to me all at once, and I had wanted everything and nothing with her, all at once.

She was the sun which shone through the rain, no wonder I always thought of her when I saw water droplets. She was the sun which filled my heart with warmth even in the darkest winters, no wonder ‘apricity’ is my favourite word. She was the sun which glorified all other beings, no wonder the one I see basking in the sun rays was always her. And even though I was just a small growing sunflower amidst acres of gardens on her land, I was happy, because that was all I wanted to be.

Proof that her rays helped shape someone to be the best version of themselves, a good and thriving flower that she could be proud of. And when those acres of gardens ever wither along with the sea beds draining, I would still be there. Albeit struggling and willing to live — I would still be there.

For my sunshine, I would still be there.

I would stay for her to seek solace in my presence as her once radiant eyes turn sombre, seeing how everything around her starts to die. And it will rain as she hides from what was there no more, and I will be there. I will stand tall and strong amidst the thunder and the storm, just to be there for her.

If one were to ask me why I loved her so much, there is only one reason I know of, because she is her. There is no specific character trait that draws me to her, there is no certain action of hers which makes me like her. I just love her, because she is her, and she will always be her — no matter how different she looks as she ages, no matter how much her personality changes with time, she is still her.

So for as long as she is her, I will love her.

And as she is always going to be her, I am always loving her.

Darissa Ong

Secondary 3 Loyalty

2025