When I was just a toddler, and had barely learned to speak, I looked for you and found you were no longer there at home. I was told that you had left, and the reason you left was to help us children. But until not long ago, I would ask my little girl’s subconscious, “How can a mother do this to her children?”
I waited for the moment when I would be in front of you again to ask this question in person. I whispered the question to myself deep down: “How can a mother do this to her children?” My little sister became my best friend. Sometimes I played at being her mother because I told myself that doing so would fill the space, the gap, the great void. Unfortunately, it never did.
Many years have passed between then and now, and maybe it was destiny’s plan all along, but God has allowed you and me to meet again. My feelings are conflicted. I don’t know if I should be angry, or rejoice, or act like a baby to compensate for all the years growing up away from you. I want to bombard you with all these questions at once, but when I look at you, I can see that you have not yet found true peace.
I observe you every day – exhausted, but always on your feet, ready to face your responsibilities. When I sleep at night, sometimes I move closer to hug you, but you’re not there because your work duties have called you. I’m here with you finally, but sometimes it feels like I’ve already lost the sweet mother I had in you, as you have had to face this world alone without your loved ones.
Me, who grew up like a free bird, in this new country I find it difficult to fly – a new language, new rules at school, no more rules-free recess times, new friends who complain about my way of playing games. I suffer reprimands, without a voice to explain that sometimes I am innocent; I just want to embrace my new life, but I miss home and my community. And now the weather is getting colder. I am excited about the snow, but also afraid I might not enjoy the freezing cold part. I am hopeless and fearful and lonely.
When I come home from school, I can see the sadness on your face. I know that my school has already called to inform you that I am a rebellious child. I also know that you blame yourself for all the years you were away. You are sad, you cry sometimes. I see you, but I don’t know how to comfort you. I can only promise you that you will be proud of me. I love you and I understand your reasons and your decisions for having left me all those years. I do not blame you, Mother.
I’m going to take a step back and let myself blend into the mold of this country. I just hope not to lose myself in it and lose my origins as well. But I can admit to you that my brain is confused sometimes because of the speed of things here. But I keep faith in God. If he allowed us to find each other, then he will also give you back the lost happiness. I love you my darling mother, I love you.