Mother, we meet again
Mother, we meet again
When I think of my mother, I immediately think of multiple women. Not that my mother hasn’t been enough, of course she has. But rather, I think of the idea of a mother – the guide, the nurturer, the comforter, to be a role numerous women have taken the title of over the years. The “mother” is thought of historically as someone who gives you life. Someone who brings you into this world. Personally, I think of “mother” as the person or persons who gives me reasons to still believe in life, at whatever frightful or fearless state I am in. She is collectively all the women who keep our fires burning, long after we take our first breath. She is the one who adds fuel to our fires when cruelty chokes us of our warmth.