“I don’t want you to die!”
As I said that, I snuggled in my mom’s arms, little tears travelling down my cheeks. She caressed my hair, talking to me in a gentle voice. She explained that I didn’t have to worry, she wasn’t going anywhere for now. My six-year-old self was terrified at the thought of losing the most important person in my life.
When I was in primary school, sometimes I would arrive home and start crying. My mom was there to console me. The kids gave me a hard time because I was skinny and wore glasses. I just wanted to be liked by my colleagues. She always knew the right words to make me feel better. She encouraged me to love myself and to ignore mean words. I remember she used to say “you are beautiful and I am not saying that just because you are my daughter. You truly are!”
Starting highschool and I looked like a little girl still. The other girls were hitting puberty, the boys were always enamored. When I would arrive home I would start crying. The kids were making fun of me. Once again, my mom was there to tell me that I am a flower blooming late.
Through all my hardships, she was there. It didn’t matter if it was a complicated homework or a broken heart. There were times when money were scarce. She would ignore her needs and give all to her family. Our fridge would be empty, but she did her best so I could enjoy school field trips.
She never bought something for her. No fancy clothes, no makeup, no jewelry. But I was well dressed and had all that I needed. Indeed, my mom has always been a tomboy. Regardless, her needs came last.
My mom is an independent woman. She grew her business all by herself. Immediately after the ‘89 Revolution, the Romanians found their freedom; communism had fallen. The borders where now open. Opportunists had risen and grew in entrepreneurs. She was one of them. Her craft developed from nothing. The company she was working at closed, as it happened then with many industrial businesses. Many, including her, found themselves unemployed. Having a little boy and a baby girl, my mom had to provide. She became one of the best pet groomers in town, learning by herself. Growing up on a farm, with uneducated, but wise parents, didn’t stop her.
She worked day in day out. Rest is a luxury when you have your business to grow and be a homemaker as a second job. In her vocabulary you will not find the words “I can’t”. I guess it runs in her blood. Farmers and peasants are hard working people, they provide for themselves.
Last year I surprised her with a trip abroad. Just the two of us. She didn't have a holiday in over 30 years. It wasn't a fancy vacation. Not even a long one. I don’t think I can keep her away from work more than four days. Still, she really enjoyed it. For a few days after we returned, she wouldn't stop talking about our little adventures.
Now, 28 years after my birth, my mom still puts her needs last. I am still skinny and don’t show my true age. Nothing changed, but my understanding of unconditional love.
I am still terrified.
This content is my own original work. The photos are from the family album.