I wish I knew her when she was young

The other day I was going through my old home videos, a particular clip caught my eye. It was a 10 second footage of my mother, taken some 20 years ago. The year was 1987, and it must have been a leisurely Sunday afternoon, for my brother and I can been seen doing last minute homework in the background.

In the clip, my mother was in her 40s, still youthful, still beautiful. It's funny how children see their own parents: They never grow old, or ugly. How can they grow any older, when they are already "old" when we first met them? I was born when my mother was in her 30s. Now that my mum is in her 60s, I cannot tell the difference. What wrinkles? What freckles? Haven't they always been there?

Yes, perhaps Time has left its unkind marks. My mother certainly have lost her energy, her strength, her sharpness of the mind. But when I close my eyes at night, in my mind she look just the way she has always been, the same face as the image taken 20 years ago.