Today is my mother's birthday. 🎂
You know, I never say how old she is. It’s perhaps a sweet family tradition and a bit of etiquette. But for me, in my heart, she is forever frozen at 30 years old. I don't know what happened at that moment, why that specific age became my reference point, but in my mind, she is that energetic, strong, thirty-year-old woman. It's funny because I'm just a few years away from hitting that number myself. 😅
We have always been incredibly close. I used to think our tradition—going to our favourite Georgian restaurant every three weeks for some tricky wine and tearful laughter—would be eternal. 🍷 We could talk about everything: work, silly things, difficult challenges. Share a beer, go to some random masterclass... For me, she isn't just a mother; she is my best friend, always ready to raise a glass to my crazy ideas. My wise, fiery woman. 🔥
💔 A Distance That Can’t Be Measured in Miles
We are from Mariupol. Our dear, beloved, sunny city was destroyed. We left a month after the occupation, but at one point, my mother made a life-altering decision: she returned. She went back because it is her home, her land, her roots. 🏡
And now, I haven't seen her for three years. 😢
I tried to visit. I tried to push through just to give her a hug. But for us, Ukrainians, it’s a whole separate "quest" with filtration at Russian borders, and the story of how I was denied entry is too long and heavy for today. And she cannot come to me.
Three years. A whole lifetime between us, measured not by kilometres, but by a chasm. 😔
💪 Pride and Gratitude
But even across this distance, my gratitude and pride only grow.
I am incredibly proud of her. Proud of the inner strength that allowed her to endure everything, and her unbreakable spirit. The strength that I possess is a direct reflection of her example.
I especially cherish the memory of her pride in the very first portraits I drew for her. 🎨 They would be so much better now, but she showed those early attempts to everyone with such touching enthusiasm. My little fox. 🦊
She never judged me. She always supported me—any decision I made, even the oddest ones. She backed me when I decided to become a psychologist. 🧠 She even bought me my first pack of cigarettes without batting an eye, saying, "Try it. And decide for yourself whether you like it or not." In that small act is all of her—giving a person the freedom to choose and accepting them.
And I’ll always be grateful for all the crocheted and sewn jumpsuits she made for my dog. 🐶 I remember she was in total shock when I moved out and immediately told her I was coming to get my dog. It surprised her, but soon, she and the dog became the best of friends.
Beyond the everyday support, she helped me survive when I was born with hydrocephalus. She managed to juggle my dancing, art school, and her work all at once. She was always there, always doing everything. 🦸♀️
I am grateful that she is my mother. 🙏
✨ Cherish the Moment: A Birthday Philosophy
And on this day, I want to talk not just about my mother, but about all the important people in our lives. The ones who build our foundation and give us the strength to breathe.
We often postpone words and meetings, thinking that time is endless. But life is a very fragile thing. None of us knows what awaits around the corner. Our story with my mother is a bright, painful reminder of this.
So, please:
• Cherish people. Tell your mothers, fathers, and friends how much you love them and how proud you are of them. Say it right now, not "when there's a reason." 🥰
• Create positivity. Try to fill shared moments with bright colours, so that your memory bank is always full of warmth and light. ☀️
• Don't hold grudges. Life is too short to waste it on resentment. Communicate. Talk. Forgive.