Today, Mother’s Day, I want to mention the person of flesh and blood, the person who literally, materially and really gave us life.
I want to talk about the mother, the long-suffering being, who makes our battles her own, who lives for us, who suffers our sufferings, who suffers our sorrows, the mother who enjoys our triumphs and is beaten by our failures.
Yes I speak of the mother of flesh and blood, not of the mystical mother who is celebrated only on May 10 and then stored on some shelf away from our sight.
I talk about the mother, the heroine of our childhood, the oasis of our adulthood and the example of our old age.
Of the mother, which for children is synonymous with a nurse, counselor, maid, cook, public defender. Of that mother who embodies everything, from the fierce judge to Santa Claus, from our punishment to our reward.
Of the mother, who for adults, is the oasis, essential to seek refuge and be able to heal the wounds that life causes us, that oasis is the mother, there we return, no matter the dimension of our failure, there she is, the mother to help us recover from our wounds, to give us comfort and lift our spirits.
Each mother It will have its own style, some will only listen to us in silence, others will give us selfless advice, others will make us see the causes of our setbacks, but their shoulder will always be there to cry over our misfortunes.
We won? did we lose? Are we successful in life? Are we a fiasco? Nothing matters, we are guaranteed the solidarity of the mother, solidarity that only in the mother can we be sure, and these are not just words, they are universally proven facts.
When your mother leaves, you not only lose a loved one –being that was not always valued in its fullness – but rather the most valuable bond that human beings possess, brotherhood, disappears – or at least weakens -.
As Honore de Balzac wisely said, “Never in your life will you find tenderness better, deeper, more disinterested than that of the mother” great truth, because the love of the mother is infinitely beyond conveniences or simulations, there is no hypocrisy or “ turned out well”, the mother is only love, regardless of the way each one expresses it.
“God could not be everywhere, and therefore he made mothers” wisely expressed Rudyard Kipling.
And so, we can continue, but I would rather like to allow me to make just one suggestion: if you are fortunate enough to have your mother alive, love her, love her, express your love to her at every moment, stop thinking that this is corny, both of you. and she need to do it.
Please, do not wait until your mother is gone to wish with all your heart, one minute, just sixty seconds, to be able to express to her that love that we sometimes unhealthyly withhold.
Motherwherever you are, HAPPY DAY!!.
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