From the outset, I will say here that for me, Mother’s Day happens every day. But I do not reject the idea that we can celebrate it every year, on the second Sunday in May. Besides, next Sunday, May 12, the florists will be very busy.
When my mother was in this world, I also never failed to offer her flowers or other gifts on this occasion. But I preferred — by far — to write him a letter with poetic accents.
And then, the month of May has always been my mother’s month. Born on May 28, she left us on May 2 — without forgetting, of course, Mother’s Day. So many opportunities to think about her, to celebrate her, to remember her presence on Earth. To remember my happy childhood in his company, to remember his legacy.
And I think of these few lines from the song Take a child by the hand by Yves Duteil: “Take a child by the hand. To take him to tomorrow. To give him confidence in his step. » Because the imprint of my mother’s hand in mine remained engraved forever.
It’s crazy and beautiful, memories, when they have smells, sensations. My mother’s hand in mine, her warmth, has never left me. This hand that showed me how to walk, the one that took me to kindergarten, the one that made me dance. It was the hand of happiness.
In the last years of her life, with failing health, I returned the favor to my mother. When I visited her, to help her get around, it was my turn to take her by the hand to take short walks around the family home. To take her by the hand to hold her better. She who was taking her last steps in this world.
Take a mother by the hand. To thank her, to show her the path to gratitude towards her. Take a mother through love. And for the last time. Hold a mother in your arms.