By Ela Vasilescu – Writer
I can see you clearly. You are a glance conceived by a deceiving thought. I am not sure if I ever truly wanted you, but I have always imagined I would love you. I always pictured you in the miracles of others, but never recognized you in my own. Sometimes, I would stalk you in my thoughts and could see your future addiction to me. I spoke so much of your existence that, with time, you became tangible.
The certainty that you will quiver my womb often frightened me. You were a thought, a thought that would maybe, someday, tell me its story. You followed your path as certainty, deep inside me and met me from in there. You experienced my weaknesses and still you wanted to know and understand me.
When you first saw me, your heart began to race and you accepted to be addicted to me. At least for then, at least for a moment. You had never seen me before but you knew all my secrets; with time you forgot them and we began to build memories instead. You tried to speak but your incomprehensible sounds often caused my anger; from that moment on you decided to learn my language. When you realized you cannot follow me everywhere, you complied with my strange biped walk. I often saw you reaching my height, holding me in your arms, telling me you will leave me. I would cry for days, my dreams pushing you away further towards your dreams. Your path began on mine, slowly creating a parallel in the stream of life. Now I know you will exist. Your image will haunt me until I will hear your incomprehensible sounds and I will force you to learn my language and my strange biped walk. A mother is not born with the birth of her child. A mother is born from a feeling greater than her, greater than her destiny or comprehension. A mother is born before her child could feel the first ray of sun on his cheek, the gentle breeze of the wind on his skin. A mother is always born for a child who needs her, her kind smile, her tender touch. A mother is born from love. Happy Mother’s Day!