All I want this Christmas

It took me this long to realise that home is not where the heart is, home is where I am. My heart is in so many places, I have given my all to those who have thawed my heart and to the places where the air has dissolved me and made me whole again, my heart is in the music, and without the music my heart would never write, and the music eludes me, every single instant, its meaning transforms and it is never the same, every single letter, every single time I press this keyboard I change, and the music, that true instant, pure, simple clear. How sad it was. It has all been so sad. This year has been so sad. I really have not cried enough. I won't.

Moments like right now I realise how much I miss my mum, my strong mum, the one I could be a daughter to, the one I  could lay down next to and cry next to for what I have been through this year. Instead, I became everyone's mother, maybe not mother, I don't know what that means so I won't assume anything, but it felt like I was. Absorbing all the storm, my mum's illness, and my family's frustration with it, and the survivors guilt on their part because I wasn't there when she nearly died. And I do what I do best, since I was a little girl, I don't shout and I don't scream, I just let it take me in, I let the the word and the music take me, that is why I was dancer when I was so young and why I wrote the saddest stories when I was only 10. And that is why still today, not a child, I write and I dance, and I hide behind the masks that this play provides. And I wonder whether I could ever be a mother, with all of this inside. But if I do, I want my child to meet the most amazing woman I ever met.

 I am someone else, still the little girl, but I am someone else. And I do look back sometimes, during Christmas to my childhood, I look at my lovely Luna and I remember. And I see myself now. And all I want for my birthday and for Christmas is not presents or shoes or anything, what I want is once again  to be embarrassed of my mum when she is drunk singing of the top of her lungs to Chavela Vargas , with her legs crossed and with a glass of scotch in her hands and that is all I want this year. I want my mum back