Once upon a time there was a little girl who was adopted from the Gipsies by a kind, honest, generous woman who took care of her and prepared her for life with the right amount of tough love, dignity and guts. – That´s what the legend says about me and my mum. True or not? Indifferent.
What is certainly true is that I´m my mother´s daughter and that fact is harder and harder to ignore as life happens and reveals – in all its brutal glory – what we, players, really are.
Mum always smiles with joy when someone mentions how much I look like her (“she´s a blond, blue eyed version of you” – they tell her); she never pats me on the shoulder or praises me for my honourable attitudes or achievements because she considers them as natural as the air I breathe. When I complained, as a little girl, for not receiving any gifts for bringing A grades home (as my school colleagues did for average grades), she would dryly state:
-Bringing A grades home is not a extraordinary feat – you have the brains for it and you have to do it for your own sake (not for mine). School is your job right now and excelling at it is nothing but your obligation. – BAM! Subject closed.
Years passed until I could recognize the benefits of her toughness on me and my sister. If she had been different, I wouldn´t have survived Egypt and achieved all I´ve achieved until today.
Years passed until I realized how much we looked alike – not physically but character wise. The more I live, the more I see myself in her and, therefore, the prouder I feel. She´s a fine, FINE lady who has been too afraid of her own wings (so she flies with mine). She´s the most honest, straight, generous, giving, brave person I ever met and she supports me beyond her own opinion of right and wrong. She calls me crazy and smiles, not hiding her pride in me, when I start to doubt myself; she is the light post on the road(s) that keeps me in the right track.
I´ve recently realized that everything I do is charged by her presence and the VALUES she instilled in me: DO TO OTHERS WHAT YOU WISH THEM TO DO TO YOU AND VICE-VERSA. Not the Bible; not the Quran; not the Torah. Who needs those when I have a mum like mine?