blue blood and stitches

comments 5
journal

Losing my mother was like skydiving and not having a parachute. I was fucked from the jump. Undeterred by the risk, I managed to survive with a only few intramuscular bruises, scrapes, and self-diagnosed cynicism.


September 28, 2012: A mother’s love is the most irreplaceable love a person can feel. It’s a privilege some fail to appreciate and reciprocate.

Before even entering the world as a human, we are loved. Since we’re already inside her womb and fed through the same digestive tract, we are nurtured and cared for as one. It is a love of pure selflessness. A love given with no expectation of anything in return.

Nowadays, it’s the little things that get to me most — Chanel Chance Eau Tendre, The Carpenters, extra meaty spaghetti, and solid black turtlenecks.

If there was something I learned from my mom, it wasn’t how to perfect winged eyeliner or the hierarchy of designer bags. It was how to love.


Though the wounds have finally healed, the marks she’s left will carry on forever, most relevantly, through my family, and of course, myself.

When the glass is half empty, add ice.

5 Comments

  1. I lost my Mum in March 2012, and still think of her every day.
    Thanks for following my blog, which is much appreciated.
    Best wishes, Pete.

    Like

  2. Thanks for the follow to my blog, Amyra. I am enjoying working through your blog–a very powerful and fresh voice. I, too, am obsessed with mother/daughter relationships and also lost my mom more than 20 years ago. Hope my blog serves your interests.

    Like

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