This morning is colder than usual. Cloudy and dull.
I rub my gloved hands together and slip them into my coat pockets, staring at the horizon where the sun is just beginning to peek through.
Her car is ready. The driver stands at attention, waiting. The front door opens, and I watch her assistant step out first, leading the way to the car.
“Mama,” I mutter. “Good morning.” I peck her cheek, like I've done since I was a child. She smells so good—rose and vanilla, a hint of jasmine.
She smiles with that quiet sophistication of hers, stroking my forearms, and gazing into my eyes with an intensity that only I can see. I hold her gaze and don't try to hide anymore.
“Remember all I have told you,” she says. I nod and swallow.
Calmly, she descends the last steps and takes the driver's hand as she gets into her car. I want to cry like a little girl whose parent is leaving for a long trip, but I push the tears down and watch her car disappear down the road.
I stand outside my mansion for a long moment, thinking about her visit.
It's not my intention to pull her away from her quiet life in the countryside. I'm an adult now, trying to stand on my feet and show her I can do better.
Better than she ever did. Or maybe I'm just envious?
As a child, I saw my mother as a great but ruthless woman who lived with effortless sophistication. She ran our home, my father and his business, ruling our lives like her companies.
She was always decisive while my father just gives in to her all the time. It was like the world was made for her, at her fingertips and with a single wave, she commanded attention, admiration and fame. Everyone liked her and that made me angry.
I grew up not liking her much. We always butted heads and I made it a rule to act contrary to most of her instructions. “You are a most difficult child,” she would say with exasperation before grounding me in my room.
Now, I'm grown, married and in my own world. I'm struggling to make everything fit but it keeps falling apart until she visits. Out of the blue.
“A mother always knows,” she said on arrival. And I cried in her arms like I was six again.
After a long talk, I see my mama in a different light. She's confident, strategic and ambitious but she also has her flaws and quiet guilt. It feels like our relationship is just beginning.
I wish she didn't have to leave but it's time for me to walk my path and make the best of my life.
As an extension of this strong woman, I have no excuse to fail.
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "always decisive".
Thank you for visiting my blog.
Image credit: u_mcw9i14oxr
