Title: The Weight of Love
- Joanne Chew
- Dec 31, 2024
- 2 min read
Updated: Jan 2
The clang of metal shelves echoed through the warehouse as my father stacked another box. It was late, and the air smelled faintly of dust and sweat. He wiped his brow and glanced at the clock—only two more hours. Somewhere across town, my mother would be folding clothes, humming softly to keep herself company.
Their lives were simple, built on routine and hard work, yet filled with unspoken sacrifices. I didn’t understand it when I was younger. I didn’t see the tired eyes or the aching backs. All I saw was dinner on the table and clothes neatly folded in my closet.
One night, when I was about eight, I woke up thirsty and crept to the kitchen for water. I stopped when I heard whispers coming from the living room. My parents sat at the table, heads bent over bills and receipts. My father’s voice was steady, but my mother’s hands shook as she smoothed out a crumpled grocery list.
“Don’t worry,” he said. “I’ll take an extra shift next week.”
“We still need to get her shoes for school,” my mother whispered.
They didn’t know I was listening. I stood frozen in the hallway, clutching the glass of water. My father sighed, the sound heavy like the boxes he carried at work. But then, as if sensing my mother’s worry, he reached across the table and took her hand.
“We’ll manage. We always do.”
And they did.
The next morning, a new pair of shoes sat by the door. I didn’t ask where the money had come from or how they managed it. I only felt the warmth in my chest—the kind of warmth that can’t be bought or sold.
Years later, I think back to that night and realize it was one of many unseen moments that shaped our lives. My parents weren’t perfect, but they carried burdens I’ll never fully understand to give me a life that felt whole.
Now, when I see them resting in their worn chairs, their hands weathered but still strong, I feel a pang of gratitude. They taught me that love isn’t always loud. Sometimes it’s a quiet promise whispered at midnight or a steady grip on your shoulder, reminding you that no matter how heavy the load, you’ll never carry it alone.
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