For Mama (엄마, eomma) Clouds ~ page 1
— Stephe @ Cloud USA ^@@^
Make no mistake—the FIRST thing any woman notices about Rain is his incredible sex appeal. (Can I get an amen, ladies?) And it has been that way for years. The man practically smolders whether he’s dancing or just standing still, and his husky, soulful voice will set you on fire. Yum. (Somebody grab a water hose! Just because some of us are mothers, or even grandmothers, doesn’t mean we’re dead. And I don’t know about you, but I’m not going to be “old” until I’m 90.)
But then there is this other thing that gets you as well, way down deep in your heart—the fact that’s he’s working so hard to show his late mother that he can be a good son and make up for their rocky past, though she can never ease his burden by physically telling him well done.
How many times have we seen this look on our own kids’ faces—single, unwavering focus even to the point of sheer exhaustion? (If you have stubborn, driven children in your lives… quite a few times, then, I imagine.)
I remember this expression on numerous occasions as my own son carved his way through his harsh teen years, as he discovered his numerous talents and perfected them, as he fought the anger and self-esteem issues that came along with being practically fatherless. Our single-parent home was too poor to afford any sort of lessons or professional training, but that didn’t stop him. The dangers and bad choices he made along the way didn’t stop him, either. He practiced, sang, danced, acted, skated, and tumbled his way to the top of whatever mountain lay before him. In bad times, he reinvented himself, landed on his feet like a cat, and came out a survivor. He lived for his passions, at all costs.
Somehow our relationship made it through that fire, and today he is a dedicated young man with abilities and an occupation that can serve him for life, and an amazing rapport with children (I still see that expression on his face sometimes, after one of his six-day work weeks). It makes me shudder to think of him having to live all of it without me, the way Rain does, without his mom. A good father is a valuable thing, but a mother’s (or a grandmother’s) arms simply cannot be replaced. Am I right?
I have come to realize that:
Behind every cloud, there’s a silver lining.
Behind every mother, there’s a child with limitless potential, untapped.
It’s when the unquenchable love of something turns on a light behind that child’s eyes, or when untold tragedy starts a fire underneath him or her, that we see their potential unleashed. It is amazing what a human being on a mission can do. ^@@^
Rain has proven that, hasn’t he?
Welcome to our pages for ummah (mama) and halmoni (grandmama) Clouds. Daughters, sisters, and aunts are welcome too, of course. We are all connected, right? Rain fans unite!
— Stephe @ Cloud USA ^@@^