I know that every moment with you is a gift, a blessing and a memory for posterity. And we are lucky to have those moments so frequent. No. Fortunate. You come, and when you leave, the house is never the same. It starts with a closet, then a patio hose-down, and ever so subtle all the stains on the wall are magically not there anymore. An action that somehow washes away the stains on my life-apron. You run to the pharmacy on your last day and buy multivitamins, eye creme, and refills for the swifter duster. You are concerned with my health, my beauty routine and my home cleaning. And who wouldn't want this everyday? I'm a fortunate child. But, it's more than housework. It's soulwork.
Our conversations stay forever pending. Because we never run out of things to talk. Even as you leave, I already have something new to tell you. The more we talk, the more I have to tell you. We are fortunate. A mother and daughter who talk to each other. There would be no us, if it wasn't for our talking. To know someone so deeply is to find oneself. And we have found each other. And when I think of my daughter, I can't help but see myself in her, just like I'm with you. Do you believe in the possibility of this continuing on into the next generation? Can Emilu and I ever be this way? I only dream so.
This is a touching post. Thank you for sharing it.
ReplyDeletei love it! this is how I feel about my mother!
ReplyDeleteI feel the love Patricia! You write so sweetly about the relationship with your mother, and your hopes for your future realation with Emilu. And your mother is so beautiful!
ReplyDeleteAbout the gift swap: let's do it! Something handmade or thrifted and upcycled following a theme... did I get you right there? Wouldn't it be fun to have a common theme and see how we interpret it? Like "mother" or "blogger" or "sleep" or "clutter" or "clean" or or or... :-)
Love Maria