My relationship with my mother was irreplaceable.
Mother… Mom… Mommy…
The most beautiful words.
I did not manage to enjoy them as much as Ι wanted. I stopped quickly saying those words.
The hugs I enjoyed was few and even fewer was the memories I had with her.
That is why because when I lost her I was very young. I was about ten years old.
It was sudden. Just like that my father left alone with a child… How difficult could it be for him… Besides from his grief and pain, he had to take care of me…
We have not ever discuss it. He does not like talking about the past. The only thing he ever told me was that having to take care of me help him to survive. He managed to live. Otherwise, he could not handle the loss of his wife.
He had me to remind of her, to look like her; he had a reason to hope.
However, how about me? I felt so lonely now than I was before, even though my father was always so close to me. Even though he was trying to replace her with every means necessary.
My relationship with my mother was irreplaceable.
I would never forget her scent when she has hugged me. The rose scent that she was wearing has imprinted in my memory. The perfume bottle remains here. In front of her mirror Unfinished.
I was not able to fall asleep unless she would come and tuck me in.
She was the one choosing my clothes that I will wear to school. She was combining them so carefully, and she was always asking for my opinion.
She was combing my hair gently, and she was making me plait.
When I had a problem she was always there for me, giving me the best advice. That is why I was always telling her all my secrets.
Even though when she was berating, she was so sweet.
Who could ever replace her? Who could ever take her place?
My father could not make my hair plait, either he could choose clothes that I like I could not even tell him my secrets…
I was always grumbling about it to my father…
I know that are just excuses! I would never stop missing mum if my dad was able to do all these… I just could not cope with my mum’s death.
I had never imagined how upset and sad I was making him.
The years were passing so slow, so severe than I could stand. My father had to go to work, and I could not stay at home alone. That is why he hired a woman to look after me. She was the neighbor’s daughter, she just had finished school, and she was looking for a job.
She was taking me from school, she was helping me with homework, and she was taking care of me.
She was so polite, but she was not even close to what I wanted. To what I needed. Moreover, sadly to what I could never find mother care again.
Mother’s day had arrived. It was the first time I was celebrating this day without my mum… Everybody else at school was making lovely postcards with flowers and hearts on them… Me?
My teacher told me to make something for my father or my grandmother. I did not want to… Then she told me to make a card for my mother. That I should make it so lovely and so bright in order, my mother would be able to see it from up there. I liked the idea. I made the most beautiful card in class. I painted it with so many colours, and I wrote the biggest letters so she would read them! I know she did…
From that time, I started writing to her letters… I wrote all I wanted to say to her… It was a way to communicate with her.
I was regularly seeing my mother in my sleep. I saw her smiling at me, hugging me, kissing me. I felt so peaceful than I was before. However, when I woke up. I burst into tears. I realized that all I felt was nothing more than a dream…
Growing up I overcame her loss, but the difficulties never left.
My father was trying so hard to decrease my feeling of loss I had. Even though he was working so much, he always had time to spend with me.
We were talking about several matters; he was always asking about school, my friends and his feelings.
I started to tell him everything that bothered me, avoiding talking about mum. I knew that would make him sad.
Slowly our relationship became stronger. Within this atmosphere of trust that we were building, he started to speak for himself.
He told me how he imagined the future. He grumbled, smiling for what will he do after I go studying at a university
I had the courage to ask him about the mother. I had the need to talk about her, but he ended the conversation right away.
Even now he is not able to talk about it.
Even now her stuff is just like she left them, untouched. Just like my mother left them the day she was gone. The only intervention he made was a photo of her. He put it there so he can see it every morning and every night before he goes to bed.
I know that he often stands in his room, in front of the mirror where my mother’s stuff is… Her perfume, some jewellery and cosmetics. As well note that she had left him that day “I am going to the pharmacy. I will not be late! I love you”, she wrote to him.
However, she was late. Did she know it?
Even now I am dreaming of her. However, now I am not crying when I wake up. I always wake up with a smile! She makes my day knowing she is so close to me