"Hello, Mom" - an abstract original oil painting, textured woman painting, bright girl art, mother and daughter painting, contemporary living room wall art




STORY 1


DAUGHTER:

Mom, do you remember?.. We have not talked for 28 years. How did you live all those years?.. Did you think of me? Did you miss me? Did you dream of me at night? Did you ever want to call me?..

Mom.

I have lost the habit of this word. For too long I forbade myself to think about you. Resentment, hostility, condemnation was too strong. Hatred was burning me too hot.

We were strangers, remember?.. I know you didn't want me. I remember your coldness and aloofness. A raspy voice and a stony face. I remember your eternal nagging and punishments, and how I begged you to stroke my hair at least once in a lifetime.

But gradually it all disappeared somewhere, went away and there is no more. There is only one thing aching in my soul. Something warm, imperceptibly cozy, familiar, and close. Something that was lost long ago.

This familiar and lost still smells like milk, like baby powder and your soap. It smells like YOU.

This is how my strange love for you smells, Momma. The love I realized only now.

After living through the drama with you, I did not think I would ever become a mother myself. But I gave birth to... a daughter as well. Unplanned. And suddenly I felt I stopped judging you, just as I was surprised to find that it is POSSIBLE not to love your child...

And I've known for all my life that you did not love me. I reminded you of my father. After all, you gave birth to me to get (and keep) him. Or rather his family's money. But now I don't blame you - you just wanted a good life. I remember you often repeated to him and my grandma (and later to all other men in your life): "Me and my child need this and that". Well... Everyone earns the way they can. And if before I was tormented and could not understand why my father left us, what was my fault, now I don't ask such questions anymore.

With us, you and me, NOBODY'S GUILTY, Mom. Neither you nor me.

It just happened.

And we both suffered all the way. And my father too, I know.

Now, 28 years later, I want to make peace with you. I am bringing you your favorite chrysanthemums and I want to hug and cry with you.

But I don’t remember exactly where your grave is: just behind that turn to the right?..

Well...

Hello, mom.


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