Mothers Love Differently Around the World

By Tanushri Sundar

I feel a special joy some mornings, when my mother’s sister and mother’s mother visit our California home. Half asleep, I hear distant conversations. Overlapping voices intertwine with my dreams and wake me slowly. In the kitchen, I am offered a cup of tea: An invitation to join the table. A wordless welcoming into family. I wonder if this joy — this melody of four female voices — defined my mother’s childhood home in India. Is this why she is never hugged, kissed, or comforted by her own mother? With this morning-tea feeling, perhaps she did not need overt affection to know she was loved. I consider my mother’s culture, which defines maternal love beyond the scope of mother and child. To her, love is social: The presence of many maternal figures. A sibling and friend at arm’s length. An unwavering sense of community. This is where she comes from, but not where she raised me. In our suburban California home, these chattering women inevitably finish their tea and disappear through the front door, back to their own children. Only my mother will stay. In her new country, the predominant culture facilitates compact and private families.

Life is just easier to navigate this way. And my mother knows that her new home lacks the social love that defines a full household:

Her childhood household— Where love floated in the air, But was never named or addressed.

So, she chooses to convey maternal love with expressions novel to her: Warm embraces and forehead kisses. Cheesy good-night texts. Saying “I love you” often and with ease.

I am grateful for this affection, which persists when the morning-tea feeling goes away.

With it, I always know that I am wholeheartedly and unconditionally loved.