A Mother's Love

 No one prepares you for the silence that children leave behind when they grow up...

Not the silence of an empty house,

but the silence that creeps into your heart...

when they no longer ask you what to do,

when they no longer seek your advice,

when they begin to live... without you.

And you smile, of course.

Because that's what you wanted: to see them fly.

But inside... something breaks.

Because being a mother of adult children is something else.

It's biting back your words when you see they're wrong.

It's swallowing the urge to call when they don't answer.

It's learning to love without invading.

It's looking from afar, with your hands still

and your heart trembling.

Sometimes they tell you things... but often they don't.

And you pretend it doesn't hurt.

But it does hurt.

It hurts not to be part of everything like before.

It hurts to see that they no longer need you... at least not like before.

And yet, there you are.

Putting out their favorite food when they come over.

Arranging their childhood photos.

Praying for them every night, as if that were enough to protect them from the world.

Because deep down, a mother never stops caring.

She only learns to do it from the shadows.

From a corner.

From a prayer.

And that's a form of love that no one sees...

but that sustains everything.

Moral:

Being the mother of an adult child means accepting that you are no longer the center of their life... but continuing to love them as if you were. Because there are loves that don't fade; they only learn to wait in silence.

✍️ Mayrasa