I listened to the stories of other mothers...stories about motherhood and love and loneliness and exhausture and beauty and learning and feeling and escaping and believing and loosing and thriving...stories of mothers migrants...stories of mothers refuges...stories of single mothers...stories of mothers immigrants…
I found myself in their whispers, struggles and hopes…
My beloved mother passed away 12 years ago. My mother passed in the month of November.
She never met my son who was born a year after she died…I never stopped missing her…
My mother used to tell me: “You will learn about motherhood, only when you have your own child”...at that time I was not paying much attention to those words...at that time I didn’t even know if I would ever even wanted to become a mom…
And than as soon as my mother left this physical world, I became mom...I got one the biggest teachers in my life...my son...and I’ve been learning with my son all of the stories I learned from other mothers and from my own mother and from mothers of mothers…stories of laughter, stories of struggles, stories of pain, stories of tiredness, stories of courage, stories of love...
This work and layers of paints I dedicate to all mothers and children...to those I already know, to those I never met, to those I might meet in the future, to those who will certainly cross my path, to those who supported me and my child when I needed support, to those I learned from, to those I will never forget...
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