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Wednesday, 6 July 2016

Transition

I wrote this piece of fiction prose a couple of years ago. From a mother to her mother.

You have told me several times that you love me and that you will hold on to me till your last breath.
And I have never really poured much thought into it. Moms talk like that.

You have told me that you felt all of your life's love surge in your heart, when you saw me for the first time.
But I never so much as pondered over the meaning of those profound words. Because moms always talk like that.

You have taken my hand in yours and looked at me as if your whole world finds it meaning in my eyes.
Although I never have glanced so deeply in your eyes to see that they well up when you do so. Because that is what moms do.

And now as I hold my new born child in my arms, my thought trajectory is taking me into all those moments, when you told me that you loved me and I never thanked you enough.

And so, today, I hold my little child in my arms and look into her eyes, the way you looked into mine and tell her - I love you so, just the way my mom loves me.

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