Mom … can I talk to you? I mean, eh, I know this is a stupid question. I can always do it. You keep telling me that you are my best friend, for better or for worse, always ready to listen to me … Well, maybe not always but I know that you’re only human too and you have your bad days but yet you always come to me with a smile on your face and you give your best, no matter where and when. I know I should tell you this every day, not just on that one day of the year. But I think that such days were created for us to break free for a moment from this constant confusion in which each of us is lost, and to tell You so simply, with all my heart that without You I would simply not be able to live.

Kathe Kollwitz, "Mother with a child"
Kathe Kollwitz, “Mother with a child”

You may doubt it sometimes but I really know how much you do for me, even though my behaviour isn’t always a good support for what I am saying. I can’t even remember most of the things from my life, they are buried somewhere in the subconscious mind of this child that I once was, and for whom the whole world revolved around one, the most beautiful woman in the universe, even if it was limited only to our backyard and the kindergarten rooms. I remember how you danced with me to our beloved songs, taught me how to make those delicious cookies and how to look at the world distantly to everything and everyone. And even though I was too young at the time to keep it in my tiny mind, sometimes I think I can hear your joyful laughter that pealed in the house when I took my first steps. You were right next to me in my best moments, no matter if I finally made my shoes myself or if I managed to make my dreams come true. You were always giving me hope. It is thanks to you that I want to dream, I can love, I know how to live.

 

Berthe Morisrot, “Cradle”

 

Ferdinand Hodler, “Mother with a child”


Mom is one of the few words that sound similar in every language but when I say to you, it feels so special and unique. Although the world is not always as colourful as I would like it to be, thanks to you I know in which drawer I can find my old crayons and pink glasses. You taught me to never give up and to see good in every person. Thanks to you I also know that the crayons sometimes break, you have to accept that nothing can be done and spend the darkest days with those you love. Exactly. One can learn the art of love from you, the most beautiful love of all, the unconditional and patient one. One has to be able to forgive. Be able to always be. To stay.

Gustav Klimt, “Mother with the children”, 1910


I still can’t figure out how you were able to keep finding the patience to keep telling me about all the most important truths of life, enduring my constant opposition, shouted cravings and lack of respect. I can only imagine how much your back hurt from holding your small human being by the hand and how much your head was buzzing from listening to my screams and constant sleeplessness. You have always had the strength, however, to overcome all these adversities. So many times the awful words came to my mind that, fortunately, did not see the light of the day but they remained in my memory and they keep wandering somewhere between my memories. Although I can’t turn back time and “sorry” is just a cluster of letters, I still want to apologize for all the quarrels, pulling your hair, slamming the door and whatever else has broken your golden heart. I am so ashamed of all these bad words that have reached your ears. I am so ashamed of all these unspoken ones.

Pablo Picasso, “Mother with a child”, 1921


To understand some things I had to grow up a little bit. You’ve always wanted good for me. Never done anything out of spite to dog everyday life, but to show what the world is like and what can happen to me. Now I know that his cotton candy, which you didn’t want to buy me, wasn’t simple malice but an attempt to show me that I cannot and won’t have everything in life. Through this winter hat, which you insisted on putting on so much, you made it clear that health is more important than anything. You have always been with me no matter if I was safe and sound, sick, sad or full of joy and by this act of dedicating yourself, you tried to teach me the understanding for others. I know that I still have to understand a lot of things. But will I ever be able, Mom, to be as brave as you are?

Pablo Picasso, “Mother with a child”, 1902
Edward Munch, “Sick child”


I don’t want to set you up right now, Mom, that the worst things in the world are still waiting for you, but on the other hand, it’s hard for me to assure you that my growing up won’t hurt. Changes occur constantly in life and even if they are not very painful, they tend to bring us the chronic melancholy and the reflection on what has gone, with a view of what is coming. These high heels, once ten sizes too big for me, suddenly appeared to be too small, and that child who was not able to survive five minutes without you, will find other people without whom it will not be able to live. But do you remember saying that I would always be your little girl? Somewhere deep I know that this is true. No matter how far I go and who I love, you’ll always be the most important person in the world for me.

Olga Boznańska, “Motherhood”

Mom, will you promise me something? I know this question may seem very silly. But please, promise me that you will always be with me. That I will always be able to come and hug you, even if I have my own children to hug. And promise me, Mom, that you will never doubt in yourself. I know it’s not easy to always have hope. But you were able to show me how beautiful the world is, regardless of the fact that people fail sometimes and you can’t control your tears, the result of the simple fatigue. This strength is still hidden somewhere in you. I know it. And I still hope that I will find it in myself too, so that I can tell my children how beautiful it is to be a Mother.

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