My mom was a great mother when I was a child. She is even better now that I am adult. When I was a teenager, I thought that I could live without her. Big mistake. I guess we all go through a phase growing up, when we think we’re simply invincible.
Having a mother is great at any stage of life. Without her, we are orphans from everything, since this world is not very maternal at all.
This world doesn’t care if it’s cold outside and I am not wearing the proper jacket. It doesn’t care if I spend the night out, or if I’m in bad company.
This world wants me to get married, have children, buy a house, and keep paying the mortgage for the next 20 years. This world wants me to be fashionable, to own a car, and to buy things on a credit card.
Mother also wants me to look fashionable, but she is more worried about my health, my teeth, my ears, my well–being ; she doesn’t want me to use drugs, drink, or smoke.
This world looks at me only superficially; it can’t see through my skin; it doesn’t detect sadness or loneliness. This world wants me to be beautiful and successful so that it can benefit from my existence, as if we were mere objects of decoration on the planet. This world doesn’t take my temperature, it doesn’t comb my hair, or offer me a piece of home-made cake.
This world wants my vote, but it doesn’t listen to my needs. When this world disagrees with me, it stamps me, it burns me, it excludes me. This world doesn’t have patience, and it doesn’t listen to what I have to say.
This world wants to see the size of my house and my resume; it asks me how many children I have and what’s my education. But it doesn’t know about my fears, my grades in high school, or how hard it is to find a job. In this world, you snooze you loose. This world doesn’t care for individuals, but only for people in general, which represents statistics, dogmas, and slogans.
My mother doesn’t belong in this world. She is from another planet. She can be emotionally challenging; she is laud, nosy, bossy, stubborn, dramatic, and opinionated. She suffers for me, with me; she cares about the details and knows my likings, while this world demands maximum efficiency from me all the time. This world selects the most likely to succeed, the smartest, and the strongest—and it charges very very much for that.
My mother? She is mine, for free.
©2013, Leticia Moreinos Schwartz
© 2013, Illustrations by Babi W.Steinberg