The death of the creature that have you conceived, carried in the womb, gave life. Her flesh is your flesh, Her blood is your blood, your body is an extension of his body: the moment when he dies, he dies physically a part of you or the principle of you, nor need the umbilical cord has been cut to separate you. A thin and invisible bond remains connected forever, for better or worse affect your whole life.
All I wanted to say what I was never able to tell her, and I never told anyone, my wounds, my regrets, my doubts, however precious burden because it was the same life, I wanted to say that despite the wounds and those regrets and those doubts I loved life so much, I was so glad to have been born, and thanked me for that intuition that gave birth and had never accepted, then I was so useful for my work.
Even if he did other good things in his goodness, his generosity, giving me life would have been enough for me to be righteous his life and I was hoping that my gratitude the retribution of any regret that I could have given her. To answer that had no idea happy, proud of the beautiful gesture that had made, she squeezed my fingers hard on him and I threw open my eyes as blue as the sea.
Then, when it was my father, me and pointed with his index finger with a smile, as if to remind me that the gift was also from him. He was unable to externalize all forms emotional and affectionate, this characteristic remember that made me a bit ‘suffer from small, but it has become my strength as an adult. I confess that I would have preferred the gift of a box of chocolates such as Forrest Gump and I recited the stories so funny, that mother so preposterous but so affectionate with his “champion” …
We did not have a simple relationship, our ways of seeing life have always been at odds. Your simplicity and tendency to play down everything, my wanting to learn and understand more and everything, you took me around, called me the philosopher.
A hug Mom, wherever you go …