KRISTINA

KRISTINA

Kristina, images are surfacing freshly in my mind. I see them so clearly. So vividly that I can almost feel your soft curls pressing against my warm face, flushed with the exhilaration and excitement that life did not betray me—that it did not deny me the sublime feeling of motherhood.

The rain is falling... For two hours now, the windowpanes have been washed by unusually heavy torrents of water. It is a bit chilly in our room. We wrapped ourselves in blankets and lay down next to each other. I can clearly hear your tiny, quiet heartbeat. A heart that is honest, pure, loyal, childlike. A heart that trusts me. You look at me with eyes as clear as the bluest sea. You wrap your warm little hands around my neck and say, *"You are such a good mommy. I love you."* That spontaneous, sincere childlike declaration echoes in my heart like the most beautiful song, a pledge of our love. I feel and hear the beating of my own heart, which I think cannot survive such a massive wave of love. I love you too, and I wonder if I will be able to be a good mother, so as not to betray that deep and unconditional love in your eyes.

You love me. Without questions, without even knowing who your mother truly is. Whether I am rich or poor, beautiful or less beautiful, young or old, whether I have made someone miserable or happy. None of that matters to you. I am your mother, and that is the only thing that matters.

You lie there. On the pillow, your scattered blonde curls touch my cheeks. I smile at you. And I remain silent. Tears slide down my cheeks. You look at me curiously. You press closer to me; my tears have worried you. You begin to cry too, thinking something is wrong. I hold you tight against me and murmur comforting words. That everything is fine, and that mommy isn't crying because she is sad, but because she is happy. You are my little girl; I am the mother of a wonderful, blonde, little girl. An angel. Children are earthly angels.

I remember that afternoon when, bound by an unbreakable love, we felt the exact same thing. You—that you were safe in my embrace; I—that I was strong enough to protect you. And I whisper to myself, *"You are safe beside me, mommy's darling."*

And then, a thought cuts through my sense of security. From what? From what are you safe? Only from the rain. From hunger. From the cold. From fear… I cannot protect you from what matters most, and that brings back the pain that pricks my heart like the tip of a needle, and I weep again. I cannot protect you from pain. From losses. From the falls in life. From the first tears and the heartbreak when someone lets you down. From betrayal. From all of that, I cannot protect you, and no one has ever protected anyone from all of that. You will have to live through all those pains alone and feel how much it hurts. I can only be beside you, just like today, and hold your hand. To draw you close to me, just like today, so it hurts less. And I would do anything to help you avoid the falls and prevent you from carrying scars, and even those wounds that know how to reopen and bleed.

I sigh and watch you tenderly. I don't want to think about all that. It seems there is still a long time before then. Today, I truly can protect you. You ask for nothing, and you need nothing but my presence. My embrace. My smile. My reassurance. And an occasional toy that elicits a joyful squeal from those sweet little lips. Then, your affectionate cuddling and introduction to a new "member" of your truly large troupe of toys.

Oh, how I love you, my soul! You don't know it yet. You will feel the same profound emotion when you hold your own little "man," your baby, when you become a mother. And I hope you will have the time, just as I do today, to live through your own moments. To leave behind all the "urgent and important" things that cannot wait. Because only children cannot wait. They alone want to return love for love and smiles for smiles right here and now. Those wonderful creatures will wait later for "their time," but a void remains. A loss. And the only losers are the parents for whom everything else takes precedence over time spent with their children.

Those little people grow up fast; they leave the domestic nest, and one day we suddenly realize that our places have been filled. We are pushed aside. You have found your own people to surround you, whom you have placed in your hearts. And you left… you grew up… But if you carry memories like these into life, at least you won't be alone even when you feel lonely. I know you know… Mother is here! Waiting. Patiently and quietly for her turn. I know, too, that a mother always has her place, but only on the condition that she secured it in time. And that comforts me.

It is well. The rain is still falling. It beats against the glass, but you have fallen asleep. Soothed. Safe. Happy. Your hair frames your breathtakingly beautiful face. Pride chokes me as I watch you. How innocent and beautiful you are. Thank you, God. To you alone do I owe my gratitude. You are the Giver of all good things. You gave me this child of mine. May she be happy and protected. Guard this little fledgling of mine from all evils and clear her path. And do not let her hurt too much...

I pray to you inside myself, whispering the only prayer I knew back then. But it was powerful. Because it flowed straight from the heart, and I am certain that you stood right between us, smiling along with all the cherubim and seraphim, beside whom stood the Heavenly Mother, overflowing with love. She understands and knows what I feel. She knows how I worry, and how I become at peace. I cannot protect you, my darling, but the Heavenly Host can. And I know that even pain has its purpose. I recall someone saying, *"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger."* I am aware that even defeats become victories when the meaning is understood and a lesson is drawn. I gently hold you close and live through every single moment of our hearts beating as one. We are touched by the same love, and the same love we will, I hope, carry into the days to come…

Days pass, years succeed one another, thundering through our lives and departing without even asking for permission. Like a fast train following its path and the direction of the tracks.

And here we are today… From that day when you were four years old, exactly fourteen years have passed. You are eighteen! You have grown into a beautiful young woman with a gentle expression on your face. Those same blue eyes. I notice they don't have that same open expression full of wonder and absolute trust. You are becoming mature. In your heart, you surely guard some secrets of your own. In the mornings when you wake up, you give your thoughts to someone else, not to your mother. You have grown. First loves bring a blush to your face. The whisper of words as you lean against each other somewhere on a bench. And promises accompanied by a smile. Promises of first love that are never doubted.

I look at you gently and a bit sadly. I am touched no less than on that day when I held your little self close to me. You haven't let me down. My heart does not tighten with pain. It expands so much that I can hardly contain such joy. My beautiful angel.

The rain falling today reminded me of that day, and of many days like it. We held onto each other. I saved all the memories and stored them in my heart. They are safe there. No one knows about them, and no one can destroy them. I love you even more than back then. Every year as you grew, my love multiplied.

And today…. I am breathless from the rush of emotions. Soon you will leave this home. You are planning for college. You have a boyfriend. I wonder how many wounds you have received by the time you reached eighteen. Some you didn't even speak of. Some you swallowed. About some you wrote to me when I couldn't be beside you. With horror, I ask myself, *"Did I let you down?"* You silently begged me not to leave you, asking me if I was just as scared as you were, and if it was normal to be afraid when mommy goes to work in Libya, leaving you alone with your grandma and grandpa.

Today, my tears slide down the windows just like the rain did that day. My heart has tightened. I saved something for you. And you saved something for me. Your little secrets and pains, and I couldn't hold your hand so it wouldn't hurt... Forgive me... I know that is a void left behind like some cursed hole over which darkness and the endless loneliness of a nine-year-old heart hovered—a heart that couldn't lie down next to mommy when the rain fell. And when it was cold. Not just in the room, but in the heart. I missed you. And you missed me.

Ten years have passed since then. It passed quickly. If they could be brought back, I wouldn't leave you. But today, no one can protect me from this pain either. And I must live through it for myself, just as you did. Did we become closer or further apart because of it? I don't know… I think that one year still couldn't erode and gnaw away at all our moments. Our day when you said what a good mommy I was.

The other day, you even won two sports medals. Hehehe, I used to tell you that you were as lazy as a cannon when it came to sports… And look… you aren't. You don't smoke cigarettes, you don't drink alcohol, you don't use—God forbid—either light or heavy drugs. Yet, I understand… You didn't carry despair and emptiness into life. You carried our moments. You carried *Cosette*, you carried *Nikolaj*, you carried the poems and stories we used to retell each other. One night you to me—the next, I to you. I succeeded after all. Until today. Without the help of God and all the Saints I called upon that day, I would be a loser today. I say: *Thank you, God, for your merciful love.*

I remember again… When you fell once as a little girl. You had just started preschool and hit the concrete hard. How you cried and said: *"Ohhh, how it hurts, it hurts, mommy, it hurts!"* I knelt beside you and kissed you. I didn't just comfort you; I was simply beside you, and you quickly stopped crying. And your pain hurt me. Today, I would place a kiss right into your heart to make all the pains, wounds, sadness, and loneliness go away. And to crouch beside you for all the days and wounds that ache… But it is impossible. And you must carry that alone.

You drew something from all of that. You carelessly wave your hand when I mention something. You grew stronger. You are no longer that little fledgling. You are a young soul ripening like young wheat. But you have a foundation. You have memories that you carry just the way you remember them. They cannot be erased. They were imprinted into your soul when you were little and remained as a stamp of a bygone time.

You are a young person. We talk about graduation. The dress. I am moved by how much good time can bring, and not just carry a veil of memories behind it. You have plans and decisions. I don't interfere in that. I can only wish that you have decided well… Then again, who can know. Good old time will show it again. Our eternal ally and adversary.

And today, while the rain falls again and reminds me of our moments, I retreat into that time as if into a shelter from some vague pain. Loneliness, I suppose. I miss our time. I miss you just the way you were. And yet, I miss nothing. My soul is filled, and I can clearly tell you: I am proud of you.

Ah, today you did my makeup. I smudged your artistry a bit with my tears. I can only tell you today, now that you have reached adulthood, you have completely fulfilled my expectations. I am choked by the moving depth of your goodness. You are gentle, sometimes capricious, but a good child. Still that mommy's little girl from our days. And we went through so much until today. Both pain and tears and joy and magical moments. The magic of the fairy socks and whispered words mingled with tears. Oh, when you saw the TV and the VCR, and the immense joy of a child's wonder.

On the pillow today are your curls… straightened… straight hair. Calm eyes, without the curious wonder, yet still a child. That mommy's little girl who will never grow up to her mother. And if you ever need shelter from the rain, snuggle up to mommy again. There is room for you. In my heart, there is always room for you. Thank you for being the way you are. And for everything, thank you to the Lord God and the Heavenly Mother whom we felt in Đunis, and Her holy omoforion.

Go your way and carry the picture of your childhood, which you can pull from your heart to gaze upon the infinity of our love. And may your Guardian Angel with the Heavenly Host protect you! Nothing, nothing but you is worth anything in this life of mine.

Your mommy loves you.