I’ll be there for Mom
It’s my turn. She has always been there for me. When I was little, of course, as a loving mother of five. I was the middle child. Number three. But I felt unique. Even when my baby sister Ana Maria would stay at home and we all go to school. When we arrived back home we used to rush to kiss Mom and Ana Maria, very angry wouldn’t let us yelling: She’s mine! Even then I knew she was mine as much as hers.
She was all mine when I had my terrible migraines. The pain was so terrible I wanted to pull out my left eyeball. I thought with my kid’s logic that without the eye the pain would disappear. She stayed with me for hours holding my hands and caressing me, promising me it would pass. And her promises always became true.
She was all mine despite she was always busy working at home. I firmly believed she had eyes in her back, because she managed to pay attention to what I was doing playing around her while she was cooking or ironing.
She was all mine when I needed her to talk about “my stuff” as a girl and my problems as a young woman. She knew about my friends, my first job, my first love, about my hopes, my joys and my sorrows. She was always there for me. In the good times and the bad times. Always with her warm smile, her peaceful black eyes glancing at me. Waiting for me.
Now she needs me. She’s 93 and she’s paralyzed. I’m so sad seeing her in that condition and watching her suffering. But I’m also so glad I can do something for her; easy her pain in some way as she did with me when I was little and I was in bed with migraines. Only I can’t promise her it will pass and she knows. My immediate future consists in taking care of her, being there for her, because she’s all mine. She continues smiling and looking peacefully at me. Every little service I give her is an opportunity to show her my love and tell her “thank you for your life”.
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