Dear mom, this letter is for you
We call them when we need help.
We throw ourselves into their arms when only their words can help us.
At Christmas, on birthday and on Mother's Day we buy her the most colorful flowers and prepare the tastiest desserts.
But do we ever do something spontaneous and generous unrelated to parties, needs and anniversaries?
We decided to do it today: we wrote a letter to all the mothers to say thank you: because it is only your merit if every moment was magical; only thanks to you if we lived a story of joy, just like those of the princesses you read to us as a child.
Dear mother...
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I anticipate you: I don't need anything and, no, I'm not sick.
I know that receiving a letter from me will seem strange to you, it will cause you to raise your eyebrow and also worry.
Besides, you always worry.
No?
You were worried when my outbursts of initiative made me slide to the floor. You ran after me and took my hand. I, I bet, stared at you with a look halfway between "let me do it" and "help me". My body is so small. it already contained all my stubbornness, but I always gave you my hand: I knew you would guide me, letting me walk alone once I found the balance.
For this, mom, I say thank you.
Thank you for teaching me that every step is important, for accompanying me and for giving me courage after the umpteenth fall. But, above all, thank you for believing in me, for having retracted my hand and for letting me walk alone.
It happened that, instead of walking, I ran away from you.
Your every question seemed like an attack, my every answer had to be a defense.
A defense built with walls, loud music and words that I regret today. I chased you away and I was left alone, surrounded by those walls that I had built myself.
For this, mom, I beg your pardon.
Sorry for not really listening to your words and for covering them with my screams. Sorry for trying hard not to look like you and for walking away.
Today we walk close. We both go in a hurry, and sometimes we happen to stumble. But if there is the hand of the other, stretched towards us, we always manage to get up.
We have the same pace, you and me. A tenacious step, but never overbearing.
Just like you.
For this mom, I wrote you this letter.
To tell you that you are unique, wonderful, tireless and always present.
To say thank you and to apologize. And to confess that today, when I look in the mirror, I see you again. In a way of tilting the face, in a scarf that you would like: I look like you more every day.
And I'm proud of it.
