She is my mother…believe it or not…

There are people who use special treatments to look younger. who spend money on creams, on pastes, on masks, on make ups. Who retire for several weeks in far and secret  places in order to reappear suddenly with a smoother and teenager looking face. Who spend hours in front of the mirror waiting for a miracle performed by Heaven. There are other people wo don’t have time for special creams and treatments. Who run after their children since the age of 20 without sleeping for 19 years. Who wake up in the morning with the feeling of not having a chance to close the eyes for more than 10 minutes. Who run after their children for years and years tryuìing to concile job and family without letting noticing to one world the existence of the second one. Who go around to shop with their daughters before their wedding and suddenly realize that maybe all the efforts of starting young, when her friends were still enjoying and playing, her adult life, with a family of her own, were worthy. Because most of the sellers of the shops just stop and ask her daughter to come back with her mother and not with her sister. And the daughter, smiling, turns towards her mother and for the hundreth time says: I know you don’t notice it but actually she is not my friend nor my sister. she is my mother..Believe it or not…

back to the past…

Mum, if you could go back in time, would you get married so young again?
I pour the coffee on my skirt while the bride, after having thrown as a stone in the sea her philosophical question, is sitting in front of me writing on her bbm to a destination that is across the Ocean.
Well…I start thinking. This is a trap. Pay attention, I say to myself. Be calm, don’t answer too quickly. I breath deeply. I relax. And memories come back to me as birds going back to their nests. My first child as a baby, with her giant brown eyes, while pronouncing her first word, learning to read, hugging me on her way back from camp. My second neverstopping hunger, his haircut at the age of three, fighting with the sister. My third child opening her blue eyes for the first time, being defined ‘the sun of the class’ at the age of 5. My fourth child preferred video, his allergy to the detergent. My fifth child ceasarian, his being so small compared to my prevoius babies. My sixth child being the copy of the third one, her way of jumping while singing the Chanuka song about the doughnuts. My seventh child sleepless nights, his unique way of saying ‘amen!’ to every good thing we wish.
The coffee has dried on my skirt. The bride is still writing bbms maybe having forgotten the quetion she made some minutes ago. I wake up from my journey in the past. I take her hand and I tell her: You know what? I would never change one thing of my life. If I had the opportunity to start everything again, I would do all exactly the same. I would get married at 19, have you at the age of 20, go on studying in university, having your brothers and sisters, working, writing, sitting with you here in our kitchen trying to come out from this mad plan of getting married in five weeks…I would never change anything, believe me. Though it was hard, sometimes very tough. Becuase the amount of love I received every day in my life is the most precious thing I will ever own. And I would never give up to it for all the freedom in the world….