Letter to My Mama

What if you have a chance to turn back time?

It has been 2 years but it feels so much longer. Maybe it goes all the way back to 2001 when I left, but I wanted to tell you all these things and I just didn't know how. I didn't even know what these things were.

You see, grief and loss, besides the pain, offer clarity and strip away the noise of the ego. Yes mum, that's what I was, this little spoilt kid who thought he knew everything but wasn't even able to like himself.

Mama, I am sorry. I hope you can feel my pain while the tears roll down my cheeks. I didn't love you the way you loved me. I didn't understand your suffering. I didn't acknowledge your efforts.

It has been 2 years, but maybe it has been 85 years. Oh my god, I don't even know the exact date that you lost both parents. How shameful is that? I remember telling some stories, your story that you learned secondhand, as you were too little and traumatized to remember.

How you used to eat your meals from the bins while your town was being bombed. And then suddenly you ended up in an orphanage with no identity, no past or future, no sense of belonging or safety.

And you spent what, almost 15-16 years there? And suddenly this strange man walks into your life and says he is your brother and wants to take you home. Home? What the fuck is that? Home was your building on this foreign island, where a bunch of nuns and priests made sure you had everything that was needed.

Then suddenly you are back in your hometown with a bunch of strangers that you call family. With a new narrative that you need to learn, that you are a war orphan, that now you have another 2 siblings and one that died when he was 18 years old. That you all live now in this tiny little commission house and try to get some food to survive.

Mama, I am so sorry that your own country pushed you away. That you had to move to Germany to try and find your sense of safety, the same country that bombed your home and killed your parents.

But the resilience, determination and pure strength were always abundant, my sweet mum. You became a nurse, very successful and respected. You had your own properties and lived your life like there was no tomorrow.

My father was a lucky man. But you got blessed with an angel of a man as well. You guys taught me what it means to be in love, what it means to live your life in gratitude and with passion despite the hardships.

Mama, I am so sorry. You are now gone and I never got the chance to tell you these things. Or let me rephrase, I never got my head out of my ass because I was too self-absorbed. I was only thinking that your love suffocated me. That I needed to break free, only to carry your trauma with me. Unknowingly and unwillingly carrying your pain until I am ready to let it go. Until I forgive myself.

Mama, I am so sorry that I wasn't there. I wasn't there when you needed me most. That I let your beautiful husband suffer in his own silence while I was lost in my own world, holding on to whatever I thought was serving me.

Mama, thank you for all that you have given me. Thank you for the unconditional love, the love that only a mother is able to give. Thank you for being so patient with me, even on your death bed. Waiting for a few minutes after my birthday was officially over is something that only you could do! You just didn't want to ruin my birthday, did you? Thank you for the pain and grief, because I can finally say that your trauma has left and you are finally free. Our intergenerational trauma ends with me, mum. Your beautiful granddaughters are blessed and so grateful for your existence.

I love you, mama. I know you have already received this letter.