On My Mother

Trying to write something about my mother this morning is proving very hard.

I wanted it to sound both poignant and uplifting, truth is I’m not being able to do either.

It’s like words are failing me right now.

And I can’t help thinking of every mother whose kids, right now, are far.

And even when they simply live round the corner, in this very moment, everybody just feels too far.

I have been away from mum 20 years now, but never like today I’d do anything to sit together around her kitchen table, drinking her special coffee first thing in the morning while talking about life.

Little moments that stay impressed within and somehow help us to say yes to Life even when we are afraid.

I think of her dignity in dealing with these unexpected events, the grace she shares through her messages while trying to keep her moral, and mine, up.

I have been afraid this week.

Afraid to lose a life that I love just as it is.

Why should it change, damn it?

Why?

It’s perfect just as it is and I’m simply not ready for all the changes coming our way.

I have had enough of hearing about toilet paper, shortage of food, and how this may go on for a very long time.

And as tears roll down my face, I think of mum, alone in her kitchen.

While she tries to keep herself busy with a million little things.

While she sends her silly messages and videos hoping I’ll feel better.

And so I dry my tears and get myself together, cause somewhere in the world my mother is holding a light for me.

And I can see it, touch it and bring it close to my heart.

And I know, I know, it’ll be ok.

Andra’ tutto bene.

At times of despair, may we always remember that there is a greater love that holds us all, that knows no hardship, distance or time.

That keep us strong in the face of fear, hopeful despite the unknown.

It’s the love of those who came before our time.

May you always, always feel this love and pass it onto those yet to come.