When you are a writer there are subjects that you are drawn to write more than others…usually everything in your daily life may serve as an inspiration for a theme, but once in while, more often than you would probably like, there are subjects that you are closely intimate, and maybe that is why the writing becomes so fluent…more than being passionate about something that happens outside yourself, is when you decide to write about something or someone that you feel as very deep.
I guess, as any mother whose first thought, when you see your newborn, is to wish him happy, all I ever wanted for my children was for them to be truly happy and to be so by being good human beings.
I did not wish for for my son and daughter to have a high successful career, nor did I wish them rich. I did not think if they were beautiful or ugly, or if they were smart, all I wished was happiness. To be happy not through external uncertain things that may come and go, but to find happiness though something more profound, something that would go beyond financial or materialistic gadgets.
I wished for them to be happy even beyond the dependence of finding someone to love or feeling the need to be loved, or understood. I wished for them to find that “inner” core that would make them resilient to whatever people or outside circumstances, but at the same time I wished for them to be good and compassionate human beings. I wished for them to be brave to love and show goodness hopping that they would have that inner strength that would make them happy even if their world fell apart.
I look at my son and I don’t see anything unusual or different than any other three year old. He loves planes and cars, and more recently he loves panda’s. He loves his sister, and his father, and has an absolute adoration for me. I am his world and he is part of mine. He likes to play alone, and it takes sometime for him to allow people he doesn’t know to play with him.
He doesn’t like crowed places but is getting used to it. He is contemplative but so am I.
And because he is different, some call him strange.
There are subjects that are more difficult to write, some that touch you so deeply that it tears you apart. It is difficult when you see yourself in your child even if you don’t try to project that.
I wish my children to be happy and I know they are, so I wish a little bit further: I wish my children to be happy while being different knowingly that we are all the same- good human beings !