I miss my parents very much. Not the ones that just took of on an airplane back to Brazil a couple hours ago, though. Well, yes, those too.
But, I also miss the parents I had when I was a little girl. The ones who would carry me around, keep me from any danger and guide me through life. Protect me.
I guess I miss being a kid and be able to run to my dad’s arms when things are too complicated so he can find a solution that’d envolve taking me to a walk and buying me a small doll that represents him when I miss him too much before he comes home for dinner. The kind of stuff that can’t be done anymore.
I’m deeply happy that they’re still here in this planet with us. That they met their grandchildren, who have actually motivated me very (VERY) scared father to get in an airplane for the first time in his 63 years. I’m so happy they left Brazil for the first time and saw a little bit of the world out there. I wasn’t able to show them much, for we don’t have a car, but I took my dad for a walk, just like we used to do every single day, for my whole life, even if we were just out to get milk, and everything, though simple, was so amazing for him. The snow, the different cars. He was happy.
I was happy too.
Our family runs on small things. Small moments. We don’t do fancy restaurants or visit big cities. We don’t really need that. A walk around the block is fine by us. And that’s a good thing I think.
Still, sometimes being the mom makes me tired. Being everyone’s mom. Taking care of the ones around me, even my parents , who are afraid of their cell phone’s apps just makes me wish I was the baby sometimes. Maybe for 5 minutes. To be held by someone who’s got it under control and to know that as long as I’m being held by those arms nothing can harm me. Like I felt when I was a little kid. It might have been a lie, actually, like right now, my babies might live under the illusion that mommy knows what she’s doing. Well, she doesn’t… but still, nothing can harm you when you’re in your mother’s arms. And that’s a fact.