What does mother’s day mean to me, a gifted soul, who tragically, lost his mother to suicide when he was only one and half years old? Nothing.
Since the never-asked-for experience of birth and up to the moment I became aware of my own consciousness, life without a mother was fine and dandy. “What’s the purpose of tears if you never knew what death was?,” I’d always say.
Seeing everyone and their mothers today, while at work—-some bounded, forever, to wheelchairs—made me bitter and disgusted inside. Why? Well…..because I never got to experience the joys of having one. As far as I’m concerned, and quite frankly, to the deprived child inside of me, forever cocooned in silent grief, ignorantly awaiting the arrival of his mother to say to him ” It’s time to blossom,” mothers are mysterious creatures without origins……they’re just being, just like you and I.
My motherless life was not entirely gloomy, of course. There were times, throughout my physical development, when I felt the unconditional love and kindness of another human-being, whom wanted nothing more but for me to grow up strong—emotionally, especially—-so that I could achieve more than those with mothers ever could, because he, too, had to do the same. That human-being was my father. and it is he who I owe this day to.
and Happy, my undisguised-father, mother’s day.