When my kid asks me:
Mama, where were you when the coronavirus pandemic hit?

Well, sweet child, mama was out there exploring the world. I climbed mountains, sailed seas, and fought pirates. Mama was a warrior. She was a healer. She was something else. Mama was making history.

Really, Mama?

No, baby.

I stayed inside trying to finish schoolwork. I put together every puzzle at least 3 times. I ate the same meal twice a week. Baby, mama was robbed. Mama never saw her friends, mama never went to prom, mama never fought a pirate.

Was that all, mama?

No, love.

People died. Too many people, too many people died. We were too stupid, we were too busy, we were ignorant, love. We were destructive, we were killers of our own kind. We were monsters, love.

But, sweetheart...

Yes, mama?

There was beauty in it. Such beauty. We died so the world could live. Flowers bloomed, fish swam, and nature thrived. We could feel the sunshine, we could feel the rain, we could hear the birds, sweetheart. It was beautiful.

Weren’t you scared, mama?
Weren’t you lonely?

My child, yes, I was once. I was scared and I was lonely, but I learned something, my child. In fear, nothing grows. In isolation, there is solitude. But In hope, we flourish. In solitude, we find peace.

My child, my sweet child, we were just beginning to awaken.
Now, we’ll never sleep again.

The most precious sound to me
is that tune,
The tune...that my mother hums while cooking.
The kitchen looks like the Valley of Flowers
and she...dancing like a butterfly among them.
The euphonious tune fills the enviornment
and leaves me in the peace,
that I long for...

dear mother, this is my letter to you.

i would like to start this letter off by saying that i didn’t know who to address it to.
“mother” is a term that i hold dearly,
a term many use simply and with abandon.
thoughtlessly throwing the term around,
bestowing the title upon their friends’ mothers,
like they’re their second family.

for years the term has encumbered me,
chained me to a wall where the shackles have rusted into my wrists.
my arms have gone limp from pulling at them from either trying to get away or trying to get back to you.

my mother.

but lately,
i’ve found that mother is a term of endearment.
a complete bond of trust and love that i’m suppose to feel but haven’t for years.
and lately,

mother,

it’s because you haven’t been a mother.
and maybe...
maybe that sounds dramatic and cold and cruel and just downright unfair.

because you gave birth to me right?

because your idea of love is different but it’s still love, faith and ******* you can’t do this to your sisters do you know what my mother did to me you can take it
but i can’t mother.

mom.

i can’t take it mom.
you’ve taken so much from me.

you’ve stolen my health.

my ability to trust.

my ability to love.

you’ve stolen the compassion from my bones and you’ve robbed me of my childhood and i never got to recklessly throw myself into something that doesn’t matter because it doesn’t matter and i never got to live,

mama

i never got to live.

you’ve already given me guilt,
guilt that i already had.
guilt upon guilt upon guilt upon guilt

and you never stopped to think that this hurts me too?

not even once?

you think i slide through life, laughing because i have another mother who was better than you?
the funny thing is,

mama

is that she is better than you.

and it hurts me even more that she’s better than you.

because you gave birth to me.

you gave me life.

the breath in my lungs.

the heart in my chest and the brain in my head.

yet she’s the one that made it beat and she’s the one that gave me thought and she’s the one that breathes for me when i can’t.
because janda,

janda,

you should’ve done that for me.

not her.

you should’ve done that.

but you didn’t.

so i’m letting you go,
because you didn’t fight to stay.
you didn’t fight to change.
because i’m just like everyone else.

because how can you be my mother when you never treated me like your daughter.

i love you.
and i’ll always love you,
but i can’t love you like this.
not anymore.

sincerely, faith marino.

I miss you and cry for you
You gave me the whole world
But I couldn't make you happy
Even yet I'm not with you.
O  Ma, O my Mama!

You are my soul Mama
You are my life,
Long live Mom, long live!
Stay safe O Ma, stay safe!

You're the cure for my pain
And the beat of my heart
But I'm careless about you
Even when you get hurt.
O  Ma, O my Mama!

Give me a little more time
Like the light of the new moon
I promise I will be with you
I'll take your tears out soon
O  Ma, O my Mama!

You are my soul Mama
You are my life,
Long live Mom, long live!
Stay safe O Ma, stay safe!

First thing you see on the evening news
Mama cries in a sea of camera crews
She pleas for justice but we just stop and stare.
We could do so much better if we tried to care.
Mama's back to work after a week to grieve.
She can't help but wear her broken heart on her sleeve.
She breaks down and says "I need more time."
Boss says "sorry. There's the unemployment line."
We don't need to change the world.
We just need to change our minds.
We'll see things in a different light
when we pull back the curtains and blinds.
If we remember how to listen to what people say,
Maybe we can find our way back to better days