I want to know.
I want to know everything about you, mama.
How you smell right now, what you’re eating, what they’re letting you drink..or what you choose to drink. Because you’re your own person. I know this about you.
I love this about you.
I want to know about the day I left home. Rather, got out of the cab into the airport. I want to know what you were thinking because I was thinking about how how I wanted to stop. How I wanted everything to not move. I was about to break your heart.
I don’t want to know if I did.
I already do.
I want to know about the times I called you thosw first few months. Did you know – through my voice – that I wasn’t myself? I asked you every question to keep you on the phone. I sounded curious. I thought maybe I was strong. I was broken. I needed my family. They say you create a new one once you get married. That your family is not #1 but you are that and so much more. So is he. Matt is my life. You must know that you all are. I’m keeping you all.
I want to know if you’ll always laugh. Laugh through it all. Your jokes keep.me.alive. Your stories are my connection. My piece of home. I know the weather because you told me about it. I love hearing about it. You are my place of warmth, my solace and my breath. You shared your body with me. I owe you a debt I can never, ever repay.
I know you but I want to know you more. I write this for you. Always for you. Every word. This blog is your path into my life. We can’t be together right now but read this and we will be.
We will be very soon. I know this.
For mama, because even though you’re going through a hard time, you still find time to laugh.
PS: Ma, today I was feeling blah so I decided to cook. I almost made cookies but the butter was still hard. I made fried rice instead. I’m waiting for you to be at home again so you can do that guest post for my blog. Hurry. I love you.
This is beautiful. It made me cry in my fake wine and popcorn.
🙂 It made me cry when I wrote it (the day before you came over, but I cried yesterday too…WHAT. I know. Don’t read this, Ma!!). It’s how I feel living here away from them all.
Yep, I cried too. I know what this feels like.
I know. You’d think it would feel different when you’re in neighbouring states but actually, it’s the exact same feeling of loss/grief. Hugs right back.
Roanna Fernandes says
Mothers. Mummies. Mommie. Mumzie.
Jane Borges says
Our mothers…they mean so much to us. This is beautiful. Every word.
Yes they do. Thank you, Jaane.