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She can’t refine it, forever.

 Although I can remember a few people, at least vaguely, I am unable to recall anything that had happened before age 7. According to the internet, some may have access to memories formed as early as two years. That is impressive. It is okay, we all know that there are kids and others more talented than us in someway. Anyway, it’s not uncommon to have gaps in memory from our infancy days. By observing infants and their moms now, I’ve come to realise that my mom would have handled me rudely as she would have considered my innocent acts as rude ones at that time.

I have vivid (!) memories of my early schooldays, where my mom had complete control over my days. She dictated everything from my playtime to study hours to my sleep schedules. No, she wasn’t a strict mom. It felt so natural to let her take control of my things. She knew every detail about my activities, interactions with my friends, and teachers. She truly knew everything!

As I grew, she refined her ways and allowed me to do things in my own way. She no longer needed specifics. She would ask only for information like when I would be returning home after playing which she would require to plan her work. Her knowledge about my friends was based solely on her interactions with them as I didn’t share much about my friends as I used to.

My college and work life changed her completely. She began to listen more to what I had to say. We still have conversations about general topics, but it wasn’t like in those early days of my life. I wondered how she had managed to change from what she was to what she is now. Of course, it could simply be a natural evolution over time.

Despite all the changes in her life, in my life, there is one thing my mom hasn’t refined, and I know she never will. Now, I have knowledge. I have money. I have friends. I have people to care for me. I have so many other things that I once depended on my mom for. She has adjusted everything over time. Except one, this one - her love. Has she refined it? Oh, she could never. This is love in its simplest and purest of form, and hence no refinement is ever possible. It is unchanged from the day I knew her, and I am sure it is unchanged from the day she felt me. How strange, how blessed, this love depends on nothing, and so nothing can change it!

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