A Mother’s Heart
It has been months since I have visited a very good female friend of mine. If I am not mistaken, it must have been two or three months ago since she had given me a facial. She works as a cosmetologist and after a few more studies turns herself into a dermatologist. Her services improved and became more beneficial to me and all her clients.
We greeted ‘Hi’ and embraced each other. Happy to be together again. Happiness that seemed more dramatic on her part than mine. In our last meeting, she was happier and had a glow in her. This time, I felt something sad behind those smiles and embraces. We went inside her saloon and she went on with her client at the moment. After a few minutes of waiting, the client left then came my turn.
As usual, we talked about many things. How life has been treating us. How we have been doing in our jobs, family and our own selves. When it was her turn to say something about herself, she stopped and dumped herself on a stool beside the bed where I was laid down while she's working on my face. She looked at me for a second while her eyes started to turn red and soon tears started to run race on her cheeks. Trying her best to control her tears she told me, "I am not okay".
I gazed at her for a few seconds and assured her, "I am here, you can tell me". She started to relate everything right after we touched the topic about sons and daughters. She cried when she separated from her husband three months ago. Without ado she added that she believed her husband has someone else. Right away I requested her not to jump into any conclusion without proof so as to avoid personal torture. She enumerated the signals sent by her husband that caused her mistrust on him.
But then, the matter about the husband was nothing compared to the pain she had received from a son. Her two sons, one past 20 years and the other a teenager , seemed to have more sympathy for their father than her. It seemed that the older one had shown her disrespect in a way she responded to him. It wasn't just a simple show of disrespect but with rudeness and mockery. She had felt insulted and downgraded. What she just mentioned has pickled a healing scar in my heart. To shorten her troubles explaining them, I disclosed to her, "I assure you, I know how it feels". Then, she clenched her fist and hit her chest slowly where her heart was. "How it hurts! How it hurts!", she screamed while more tears threatened to run again in her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away, trying helplessly to dissimulate the pains in her eyes.
Inside my heart, I felt her pain. Then looking at her, I remember the first time we met. It was a school affair wherein parents of elementary students were invited to participate in Asado de Familias (Families Barbecue Affair). I was assigned as one of the mothers assisting the fathers who were Asadores (Barbecuers). My friend was also assigned in the same group. At first glance, we felt a click as if destiny had led us to know each other. We smiled, introduced ourselves and began to talk and laugh the whole night's affair. When we bade farewell, we felt as if we had known each other for many years.
We agreed to meet again. She invited me to her house. It was just a couple of weeks since the Asado and then again, we talked as if we haven't seen each other for many years. I guessed we were brought together by our mutual homesickness since we’re both immigrants in a Spanish speaking country. She came from a neighboring country sharing the same language. I came from a country in Asia. We found in each other someone whom you could open up yourself and be understood without being judged. Since then, we have tried not to lose contact trying to beat each other's busy schedules.
We are almost the same age and same height. We have the same color and fair skin though she considers mine much better, maybe some sort of public relation, trying to win a client. We never consider ourselves beautiful, nor do we consider ourselves ugly ducklings. A kind of talk that we enjoyed between ourselves while she tried to promote her business of making women beautiful with her talents in cosmetology. And so, I become not just another friend but another client for her.
Getting myself back to our session, we reminisce about each other's experiences, we call it as such instead of saying mothers' heartaches. While sharing each other's episodes with in-laws, we discovered that ours have similarities. Since I was the one more relaxed and not emotionally disturbed, I found myself fluent and clear with every spanish word that came out from my lips. I heard myself sounding wise in every word of consolation and advices I have given based on my own experiences and self-proven solutions. Honestly speaking, I was surprised with myself. Was it me talking?
Reaching the end of the session, we evaluate each other. We conclude that we are both a fighter of life, a winner on its stroll. After a while, the big laughs between us came like thunder, feeling like strikes of glory in our hearts. More than the acceptance of our realities, we decide to go on with greater focus on self progress and stronger denials on idiots that dare to put us down.
We didn't say goodbye, but "Hasta Luego" with the usual warmth but refreshed strength. She whispered thank you with all sincerity and deep appreciation that I could see in her eyes and words weren’t really necessary to express how she felt. "God has His own way of making us feel His presence", she sighed at the end. I smiled and uttered not farewell but "Till Next Meet".
On my way back home, I felt like Pharrell was promoting Happy. My face is reddish from the treatment, but people on the street with smiling look on their eyes nodding at me. Before my eyes, not a single soul with an indifferent look. While inside my heart I prayed with happiness, "Thanks God for talking on my behalf. Your words have calmed my friend's heart. Thank you for trusting me to be your instrument. Most of all, thank you for letting me know in your own way that NO, NO, I AM NOT ALONE IN MY PAINS."
FELIZ DIA MADRES!!
© bethbciar @simplemethepen
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