It was the first bond I ever knew.
At 4am my little girl stirring startled me out of the most wonderful dream...
I was back in Italy again with HER. The lovely thing was that it felt completely normal to be there together. My mom and I were walking down the street and met up with our favorite Italian, Rosa. We found her and gave her a hug. The sun was shining, my heart was warm and I looked at them and mentioned how perfect it was that the three of us were back together again. We kept walking and Rosa turned the corner and my mom held me back and with a laugh told me she bought me a gift.
The shining sun snapped to dark and I was back in my room with a hungry Isabella waking up.
I burst into tears, sobbing, and picked up my helpless little girl and helped her to my chest.
You see, its a bond that has not been broken - it's still there body and soul. Every time she held me in her arms, or to her breast, I was falling more in love with her face, the sound of her voice, the smell and touch of her skin. There are only a few other things in life that made as much sense to me as my mother's love. It was a warm space around me physically, emotionally, intellectually, socially and spiritually.
That is why my heart is broken. That is why I will never get over it or stop missing my mom.
It turns out Isabella is a faker. She took one sip of milk and went back to sleep making her funny little faces while she snoozed. She just wanted to be close to me as she slept. Safe, loved.
Will this little one have the chance to fall in love with me the way I fell in love with my mom?
I hope she never has to feel this pain I feel: sitting in bed with a new baby, wondering how 31 years of a mother's physical presence went by so fast; and how empty life feels without her.
I wish I could just snuggle in her arms, or look at her face, or, or, or.....
