PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

There is a turning point in everyone´s lives, in which at the painful edge of our adulthood we choose our career, our future, a possible job, a potential number of kids, cars, televisions etc. a way of life. So, when my mother made the decision to give her life to education, I’m sure she accept her fate, the idea of embracing a way of life, and that she would be attached to it for life. When we grow up and the working cycle has ended, one of the common problem that strikes us people is thinking what we are going to do for the rest of our lives. There are some who walk far away from his initial vocation, others just let life pass in front of their eyes, or just get carried away by that strange river that life is.

But not my mother, she wasn’t destined to pass the life walk by, even in the middle of a weary agoraphobia, and seeing my grandfather walk side by side with the Death, my mother found a light not only in the people that she loved, but in herself. In this lost space, in the void of her soul, in between the tiny room and the huge world that she was feeling just on her shoulders, she remembered her life, her choices, but most important, she found herself. Who would thought that in what at first seemed as an informal help to her friends was going to turn in something that was going to fulfill her and be a fountain of Joyce. She made things to help teachers organize themselves, designs, and all sort of things to give life to the kindergartens were she used to work, she was happy coming back to these places that she used to love so much, and now she was seeing them as she always wanted to. Soon this works of her would turn into a snowball that would end in the creation of her own store that would gradually turn to party decorations, and later, fused with the initial idea, it turned into a handicraft store and an artistic workshops for kids and teachers. 

But one of the things that I most admire is that she doesn’t care about the money, she constantly deny to raise the price of her merchandise, despite the advice from the people that bought things to her, she does those things just for the joy of it, for a kind of satisfaction that is not easily found any given day, any given life. She found a continuation to her initial vows, to give his life to others, to educate people for the love that she feels for what she do.

When I see her store, and all that have came from it, I can only think that in my mother I have had a model of life, an example of struggle, a reminder of victory. All this reflects my own struggle with depression, my own battle with darkness, and that, even in the most desperate situation, even in the most invigorating moment of dread, there is always a ray of light waiting for us, calling our name,  as long as we remember who we are, and what we love.