A Face only a Mother can love

I woke up to my mother’s loud but affectionate voice that always worked a million times better than an alarm clock . She opened the windows , letting the bright sun break the darkness that lingered in and around me . This was her usual routine. I took a glance at my mother who still radiated beauty , her slightly brown hair tied up in a neat bun , she looked as serene as the white snow and as lively as the spring. Her hands constantly moving as she folded the bed sheets , her eyes sparkling , throwing beams of warmth and love and hope. She would talk about the neighbors cat who was nothing but a menace , about her favorite daily soap while she would still continue cleaning up every little thing that’d hamper the hygiene she’d never failed to keep. For once , I couldn’t stop…