I miss those times when you put your hand through my hair until I fell asleep. Or when you tickled me with kisses on my feet. when you told me stories at night. Sometimes I would just ask for one more to continue to hear the sound of your voice, calm and cheerful. Your unmistakable scent.
From when everything was a party. We wore a warm coat and went to the street to step on the yellow leaves. We sang songs that was invented at the time of our travels.
I miss you,
From when you let me paint the tip of your nose and not even told me off. From when the weekends never ended, between books, somersaults on the mattress and soap bubbles.
I miss even when you told me off. Because I’ve never felt anger coming from you. Just love. I miss the moments when I got sick so I could be in the comfort of your lap for hours.
To look at the birds with the greatest of joys and to see in you the same satisfaction for showing me the world. From when you let me jump in puddles and even jumped with me. From when you let me help you make dinner.
Of our complicity, the hours it took until we were reunited. When you got me to school, I showed you that I was happy, but nothing, nothing made me happier than seeing you. I knew the next few hours would be ours.
I miss you, Mum, and those first years of my life. And those that followed.
You do not know, but I remember everything. It was engraved on my chest, on my skin, and on everything I am today. Even when I saw you do wrong, you showed me what was real and human. One day I saw you cry, and as soon as you saw me, you wiped away the tears. There, you got up, for me.
And you always thought you were not giving everything, you always blamed yourself, you always wanted to be more. Mum I assure you that you couldn’t be more. You did everything. You still are, behind these wrinkles and these tired hands, where runs the blood of a lifetime. I miss you so much.