The Tiny Moment

Hi my dear friend,

I was sitting and journaling,
when my dad walked in.

I often use his empty apartment
as an office, but it is rare that we see
each other like this.

He gave me a bear hug and said - 
“Hello, my darling!
How are you doing today?”

In that moment I immediately started
my usual reply - “good”,
but in the midst of saying it out loud, 
I started to think if that was
actually true. 

It became a very stretched “goooood”
by the sound of it.
And I guess it didn’t feel convincing…
Because my dad asked the same question again.

This time I knew I had two options. 

Option one:
continue with “good”,
sound more convincing and move on. 

Option two:
open up to my dad about what
I’m really processing in this moment…
And have an honest and vulnerable
conversation. 

I chose the second one. 

This morning’s journaling session
had uncovered how much I miss my mom.

As a child, when I was feelings unwell,
my mom used to make me my favourite soup. 
On those days I would sleep on the couch,
and every now and then she would
come and sit with me. 

I remember those moments
feeling so loving. 
So full of care. 

Even when I grew up
and had my own children,
whenever I didn’t feel the greatest,
my mom continued to send me
her homemade soup.

She continued to cuddle me
with her love and affection,
even from afar.

I was forever her child. 

And suddenly, on this day,
I really missed that.
I was longing for that time
that lived so clearly in my memory.
For that care and affection
I felt from my mom. 

With my logical mind
I knew that there are so many
people in my life, who would do
anything for me, if I asked them. 

But with my mom…
I didn’t have to ask.

She was the one, who knew me in and out
and she could sense if something was off
just by the sound of my voice.

I missed that. 
And that’s what I told my dad. 

Now, looking back at that moment,
I find it heartwarming that just when
I really needed a hug, 
my dad walked in. 

I was given exactly what
I was longing for - 
a parent’s love. 

But it was still up to me
to open up to him, and tell my dad
what was going on in my
head and my heart. 

I could have just said “good”. 
But then I would have missed
this opportunity to receive
the one thing I really
needed today. 

With love,
Elina

Imagery / Elina and her dad during an autumn walk, 1986 / family archive