I woke up this morning a bit sad. It’s mother’s day and there are no little pitter-patter of feet running around the kitchen, trying so hard to be quiet preparing me a ‘surprise’ breakfast. Those feet have now ‘pitter-pattered’ in my son’s case, out-of-state in search of his own life’s happiness and in case of my daughter, her search of life’s path. Oh, I’m sure they’ll call me today and we’ll talk and reminisce about my ‘smothering’ as they call it, and we’ll touch on how much we miss each other, but then we all will get back to living our lives apart.
And that is as it should be. Most of us try to bring our children in a way that we can proudly say that they’re all independent and can choose their own path. That’s how it was with me and my parents, [what was I thinking when at twenty years of age, half way around the world, on a vacation, I called my mother to tell her that after only ONE WEEK I’ve decided to marry and never return to the States?!] and it was with my parents [what were they thinking to leave their parents behind in a third-world country, old and alone and head out with no money and two kids for the country which language they didn’t speak?!], too.
I understand the concept; I embrace it even, but that doesn’t mean that I like it or that it makes me happy. It only means that I’ve come to accept it as years go by. That’s life, I guess, and we should be grateful that we’re all healthy and still around and able to talk, argue and kiss and make up. But what about those mothers that aren’t able to do so? That are all alone today, and I mean truly alone, whose children are lost to them? To wars, crime and illness?
And that brings me to those of us that have lost their own mothers in the past and this year. I know that my mother past away sixteen years ago, and while the pain has subsided, the ‘missing’ has not. At fifty-seven, she died way too young. If she were with me today, I think that, for the lack of a better word, the ‘abandonment’ would not hurt as much.
When I stop and think about all this, I feel ashamed at being sad for mere ‘physical distance’ that’s separating me from my own kids….
To all of you mothers, especially the military ones out there, I send my huge Serbian hug. We should grab what we can, hold it tight and let it go when the time comes. It’s all we can do. We’ve done our part. Now, they can fly and soar to the heights that we didn’t, couldn’t…wouldn’t even dream of.