1 January 1970
In a heart-to-heart with my mother I ask the questions I would never have known the answers to unless I asked them.
Written by Soesja Leugs
@soesja_leugs
Even though my mother and I have the most loving and supportive relationship, we rarely have these types of conversations. We talk about our daily life, my son, dancing or food, but this Mother’s Day I decided to dig a little deeper and ask some of the questions I want to ask my mom, while I still can.
Surprisingly, I flourished, maybe because you were a content baby, sleeping so much that I sometimes yearned for you to wake. We ventured out together a lot, and were even able to attend a classical concert in a church without disruption. It was immensely enriching.
While you are uniquely you, I find a similarity in our shared passion for dancing and our fervent advocacy against injustice. We also both love to be around people and have a gift for bringing people together. We love to host, cook and have conversations till dawn rises with the ones we love.
My foremost desire is for them to value and love themselves, empowering them to find their inner strength. Despite societal pressures, I hope they'll resist being defined by external standards as they mature.
It's difficult to pinpoint one, but among many, one that stuck with me was your refusal during co-parenting to accept any negative remarks about me from your father. Your unwavering stance taught me a valuable lesson as a mother.
"While you are uniquely you, I find a similarity in our shared passion for dancing and our fervent advocacy against injustice."
The best aspect is the wisdom acquired over time, enabling better discernment and a more compassionate outlook. Conversely, the awareness of physical and mental decline can be disheartening.
I hope you'll recall that, imperfect as I may have been, I strove to be the best mother I could. Recognizing the imperfections, I wish for your forgiveness and understanding, knowing that my intentions were always rooted in love.
"Recognizing the imperfections, I wish for your forgiveness and understanding, knowing that my intentions were always rooted in love."
Being a grandmother gives me the availability to focus on the joy that kids bring. When you are the mother yourself there is a burden of responsibility that can sometimes distract you from the profound joy.
He already exhibits familiar traits, like collecting mementos from his walks—a trait I recognize from my own youth. His appreciation for the simple pleasures of nature mirrors my own, reminding me of the beauty in life's small treasures.