In awe of my mother

I spent a few days in Barranquilla, five days I never thought I would enjoy so much. I have always been partial to the city, I am far too cerebral to thoroughly enjoy the social requirements the city asks of you, but nonetheless I play the part I ought to play and I enjoy what I can: the warmth, the closeness to the sea, the fact that I get spoiled rotten, (mum bought me shoes and cooked my favourite food) and I get to catch up with the rest of the family.

I never thought I could have so much fun with my mum. We haven't been very close for the last few years; the past has a way of ruining any chances of forgiveness and it took difficult times and finding myself in her shoes for me to approach her again. Believe me, I love her, I always have, but I was stuck on repeat, I couldn't move pass the pain, every time she tried to be there for me I pushed her away, having her near felt like burning. All along I knew something was amiss, not being able to go to her when I needed her most felt like I wasn't complete. A few years back, when I couldn't hide my problems anymore my dad and I became close again, and he has been my rock and my best friend since. Somehow I couldn't do that with my mum.

Finally whatever was broken is finally being repaired. I don't need to find out what it was exactly that needed fixing, I don't think it matters anymore, something inside of me has shifted and being close to her no longer burns, I feel loved like I have never been, I cry because I missed her so much, all those years I pushed her away she could have been there helping me through the darkness. For the first time in many years my mum and I spend time alone, I was going through a very difficult period and she was my rock, I can't remember the last time I asked her to wrap herself around me and coo me to sleep. She held my head while I cried, and listened to me even when I made no sense. We talked about everything, all the things we couldn't talk about before because I wouldn't listen. We visited my aunts, and I got to catch up with my cousins.

I realised how little I used to listen, talking to my aunts, strong, intelligent, independent women in their 60s who have lived difficult but beautiful lives, who when I needed them gave me their advise with the wisdom that can only be achieved by having lived all the years they have. More so, looking at them made me feel incredibly proud of where I come from, of what I am made of, of how music runs through my veins, and writing. How they have loved the same way I have. I see where my love for books and learning comes from, from who I learned to have the strength to battle through the worst and gratitude to sail through the best. They are all amazing women, the kind you only read in novels of old.

I look around and I see my sisters and I find that same quality, that power, that force that I see in my aunts and my mother, a drive to be all we can be, to not leave any rock unturned in our paths . I look at my little Luna, my beautiful niece, and I see that same essence, in her music, her reasoning, her loving. I spent so long rejecting my mother but an insurmountable part of who I am comes from her, and a long line of amazing women, I cannot reject her without rejecting myself, my aunts, my sisters and my niece. I wish I had stayed longer with her; I really had missed her so much all this years.