This post was written especially for you Ran, as a reminder that I missed your third birthday. I currently live far away and unable to hug you.
My friend once asked me, which life I prefer to live? Life as a single, or life as a mom with your family members are around you? This is a difficult question.
When I live by myself, I enjoy my traveling time, book-reading time, or even my body-scrubbing time. But, my heart is empty. I keep reminding you every second, every day and night. I miss hugging you and smelling your hair, pinching your cheek, or kissing your tummy. I miss your giggles or whimpers. And I am coping with those feelings right now..
Every time I see a playground with kids in it, I imagine that you are one of them.
Every time I see a Peppa Pig magazine or kinder eggs, I want to buy it for you to play with me at home.
Every time I see a baa-baa white sheep, I remember how you eager to adopt it from a store.
Every time I hear a chatty sound of a toddler on the bus, I seek where that voice came from.
Every time I look at your favorite pink bunny, I take and inhale deeply from it, wishing that your smell still intact with it.
This is how I love you from far away. I don’t know yet how to convert this feeling to become positive acts for my thesis like they said to me.
I admit that I am a selfish as a mother.
I admit that this diploma is not for you, but for me. This research that I am dealing with is not for you, but for society. The knowledge that I am pursuing now is for my college students, not for you.
I have nothing for you, Rania, even a birthday gift for this day.
Am I still allowed to wish you a happy birthday for today?
I will always pray for you, Ran, until death tears us apart because that is what mothers at least can do for their kids from anywhere at any time.
Written on a bus from Galway to Dublin.