mother [Theme]

Were you an angel?

I did not think that it was very guilty, I understood that my mother was not angry and did not even understand what it was about, but he cried and asked for forgiveness, because only in this way it was possible to put happiness into place of life.

The fact that my grandfather can die did not scare me. It was my death that would take me to a terrible cemetery, where I would lay alone under the cross, I would have seen the darkness and could not drive me out the worms. This mother could be killed, and she would have disappeared from my life, forever taking away affectionate words from her. And what will happen if my grandfather dies, I have not seen further. Grandfather was an atmosphere, like the trees rustling outside the window, I never thought about their death, did not imagine it and therefore did not know what to be afraid of in it.

From my grandmother's kisses, everything shuddered inside me, and, barely restraining myself so as not to break out, I waited with all my might when the wet cold stopped firing my neck. This cold seemed to take something away from me, and I frantically contracted, trying to not give it to this “something”. It was completely different when my mother kissed me. The touch of her lips returned everything taken away and added to the addition. And there was so much that I was lost, not knowing how to give something in return. I hugged my mother by the neck and, having buried his face on her cheek, felt warm, towards which thousands of invisible hands were drawn from my chest. And if with the real hand I could not hug my mother too much, so as not to hurt her, invisible I squeezed her with all my might. I squeezed it, pressed it to my place and wanted one thing - so that it was always like that.

And know that I'm forever with you!

- Yes. I would be very afraid for her, and I would have been very proud of her if she herself made such a decision.

Mother is the one who is not chosen. She always demands, calls, harsh, gray -haired, and you must sacrifice her, most often life. You won’t play with your mother, except in childhood.

- Eh... Maybe you're right. I didn’t understand why she was getting into your life, why she wouldn’t let you go, but then I wasn’t a mother. I didn't understand that it was impossible to let go.

Both big and little girls want to please their mothers and feel their approval. Starting from early childhood, it is important that children receive attention, love and approval; however, what should be approved is what kind of individuals they are, and not what their parents want them to be.

Our relationship with the Mother is born simultaneously with our appearance in this world.

Each one was given birth to by a mother and we were all children.

With the same success you can say to a blind child: “Sight is of no use, you can’t see - well, thank God!”

Mother of the family: And she is potty training the boy?

A man, on the other hand, toils on Earth, plays, drinks, gets bored, tries to entertain himself in every possible way, creates means of destroying his own kind, imperfect means of transportation around the planet, invents how best to make it so that there is more pleasure and fewer children. And most of all he is concerned with how to become the boss. Not satisfied, he toils.