I was thinking about an old picture my mother took at my sixth birthday.
I can remember the details of that picture.
That was a cold winter afternoon. My mother and I were at our home. In front of fireplace, I was smiling at the camera she held. On the table next to me, there was my birthday cake she had baked. The cake was decorated with elegant rose-shaped candy and whipped cream. I thought that my mother baked the world’s most beautiful and delicious birthday cake. I was very proud of her. She celebrated my birthday and treated me as a little princess. How happy I was.
That picture is the first and the last one she took at my birthday.
What came across her mind in that moment she took her daughter’s birthday picture? There is no way to know it. Everytime I think of that picture, I always feel like I am about to burst into tears.
I really miss her.