Mother Is the Best in the World

_____Our first meeting at the nursing home, just my mother and me, since the day we
entrusted her care to others. She gazes at me, her eyes void of the recognition that
once filled them. I’m a stranger now, not the daughter she used to comb hair for, not
the one she pampered with sliced guava sprinkled with my favorite sour plum powder.
My role has shifted; I am her memory keeper, her anchor to a drifting past. Only there
for her on Sunday afternoons.
_____I’m taking her for a walk in the nursing home’s garden, on a typical March day
in Guangzhou, where drizzles and sunshine interplay. These paths are no match for
the familiar trails of the park near our old home, where she once walked religiously
each morning. Yet, I hope to kindle sparks of those ingrained routines.
_____She wears the pearl necklace I bought for her with my first month’s salary, but
she no longer remembers it, and I don’t remind her.
_____Mother sits on the grass, damp with last night’s rain, her fingers brushing the
green blades – a touch of nature she’s always loved. Usually, I would caution against
the dampness, but today, I sit beside her, embracing the moisture, the earth, our
moment.
_____The garden comes alive – Hwamei birds serenade from the branches, and kapok
trees flaunt their fiery blooms, scattering petals like fleeting memories. In this
secluded nook of the nursing home, time pauses, allowing us to bask in a world that’s
ours alone.
_____I begin to hum, a tune so familiar, etched in the recesses of my childhood. She
joins in, her voice raspy yet warm, “Mother is the best in the world, a child with a
mother is like a treasure.” It’s the first nursery rhyme I ever learned to hum, with simple lyrics expressing a child’s deep love and gratitude for their mother.
_____Her hands clap to the rhythm, drawing glances from passersby. As the melody
fades, she leans in, whispering, “My daughter would always drift to sleep after this
song.” I peer into her eyes, crinkled at the edges, sparkling with a joy that defies her
memory loss. “My daughter’s favorite,” she murmurs. And I have to nod with a smile.

Huina Zheng, with her Distinction M.A. in English Studies, is a college essay coach and an editor at Bewildering Stories. Her stories appear in Baltimore Review, Variant Literature, and more. Nominated twice for the Pushcart Prize and Best of the Net, she lives in Guangzhou, China, with her family.