Mama! I say the word quietly, because the lump in his throat, his eyes welling with tears. Mom, I know you are now very close, enough for me two hours to get to you, to hug, to say how much I love you. Yet, Mom, I’m telling you a little about it.
There was a time when we are separated by thousands of kilometers, and you’re still worried about me, if I did not respond immediately to your calls. Did you know that the work that the difference in time, mobile phones – not the most reliable technique. And each call, unanswered, adding gray in your hair, the pain and sorrow in the soul.
When it seemed that the world collapsed, you arrived – and held my peace on their weak shoulders, while I could not get up, stand up straight again and take the brunt of life. It seems, then you took me in his arms, as in early childhood, and was with me through the blizzard and melancholy, dark and nothing could no longer touch the heart, because you shut off all other.
Mom, cute, sweet, my own mother, ready to give the sleep and rest for our sleep and rest, work and continue to work for us, their children. Mom, something to please you than support?
Mother, holy, native, sacred, secret in everyone’s life. Even after becoming a mother, I still can not understand how it is – to be a mom like this – give yourself every minute of his life. And when the daughter whispers syllable “ma-ma-ma-ma-ma”, it seems to me that these syllables are already full of meaning, and whispers to her, “Mom here, my dear, are you my mother.” After all, you also told me that, right? I can not remember, but I know that it was so.
How touching songs written about my mother, humorous and serious, tragic and lyrical. But delving into his musical memory, I could not find any songs about my mother, who would be passing. Char. Write for a reason. No, there are no songs. About anything can be random songs, but not of my mother. And listening to the song, remember, feel – and thank you, and you smile and cry. And now she is singing about the child that “mother hears mom comes, you will certainly find a mother, because it does not happen in the world, that were lost children.” You look into the eyes of a child, and you look in my mother’s eyes – and you realize that there is absolute happiness. Here and now you can see that the gift of God, and there is nothing equal to it.
But the humorous song about my father, but there has not been without a mother, “Dad can be anything but a mother can not be.” And my mother, when dad’s not around, on an empty road curse punched wheel, wiped angry tears, put on gloves, open the trunk, take out the jack, and then fly in time to bathe and put the child, and who would have thought that she was a gentle, warm , home, dragged an hour ago and changed the wheel?
Gentle Ukrainian “Ridna mother mine, ti nights not dospat / I drove Me in the fields of the village edge, / I in the road far ti mene to zori provodzhala, / of I towel vishivany to Happiness gave” … And who else but my mother does not sleeping at night? That baby whimpered, and it is already here, and picks up and applies to the chest, and builds a structure of unimaginable pillows that the child was safe, if the dream is still smorit her, not sleeping at night, working day. And give good-bye “towel vishivany” to make it than to wipe the child of the road and take off her sorrows and worries and feel the mother’s love.
“He got up and left, did not ask for forgiveness, what a pity that I so once was” – belatedly repentant poet, and in eternity draws its call: “Mom, how sad I am not warm your hands.” In short, “I’m sorry, Mom,” – and how sweet and easy it becomes to heart: my mother forgave my mother long ago forgiven. He continues to forgive, and to be forgiving, and can not forgive. Whatever happens, whatever pain was caused by any mother’s heart – it only heart can endure any insult and forgive, and to understand and accept. Only have time to say it, “I’m sorry,” and even if you think it is wrong, and you’re right – to say “sorry”, because she is my mother.
Mom piercing feels, what is good and what is bad, and tries to warn, prompt, direct. Council, the mother can not be wrong. Because he’s my mother, feel it with all my heart, he is prompted to save the mother’s angel of the mother – child.
Said parent prayer from the bottom of the sea … and takes out a prayer like, “Kant on the mother”: “If the mother is still alive, happy are you, what on earth // there who, experiencing, to pray for you.” It seems that even if the mother is not a believer, her every breath of a child, every thought and prayer, pay somewhere “in the sky” will be heard and accepted by a guardian angel. But today, the day of the mother, it is important to remember that not only do we need the prayers my mother – and mother need our prayers.
Mom, I pray for you. Do not cry, my dear. We’ll always be together.
Photo by Anna Danilova