My mother is the person who has influenced me the most. This is probably because my mother’s whole being matched my sense of how good it felt to be around her. Every minute of my childhood spent with her quenched the thirst I felt when separated from her. She was just there every day while I was growing as a person. My mother is just like yours – her scent is still with me today. When I hug her, I feel like I did as a child.
Once Dad bought her a holiday and she went off on her own without us, probably for the only time in many years before and after. She went to a town with a strange name, Tuapse. It seemed to me, a little girl, that it was on the moon, because what kind of town is Tuapse? It was a cold, foggy October in Vilnius, summer there. Since I was tiny, I slept with my dad on my mum’s pillow. One evening the pillow ended up in my sister’s bed and I was hysterical, my sister was hysterical too, and my dad couldn’t calm us down because we didn’t share the pillow in any way! Then, with a magically scented pillow and tear-streaked faces, we both curled up in Dad’s bed. After a moment, we all fell asleep. Hugging tightly.
I very often tell my children that if their grandmother was their mother instead of me, they would be much happier. Because it’s simply unreal. I don’t know, but I don’t really remember a single outburst of annoyance and a raised tone of voice from her. Seriously. She never shouted at us, never scolded us… I don’t understand how that was possible! Her gaze was always soft and gentle, her hands warm, and she was the kind of woman I wanted to grow up to be.
P.S. I’ve grown up to be quite different
