Studio City, California
Alexandra Lopez Iglesias 2022
There is a new stillness in my heart.
It feels like home. It took a long time to get here.
Forty-three years to be exact. Or was it 125?
Our collective wound ran deep.
It imprinted and changed our cells,
circulated through our blood, blurred our vision.
And how could it not?
A mothers love and protection is primordial,
or it should be.
Time didn’t lessen the pain.
It remained, whole, present, evolving.
An invisible entity capable of swallowing us into despair.
We did our best to keep it hidden,
pretending it wasn’t there. But it endured.
Emerging as we unwittingly hurt the ones we love most.
Leaving us empty and sad.
So much unnecessary hurt.
This burden doesn’t belong here.
It no longer serves us.
The traces remain and I honor them.
I honor the lives that carried and transmitted this ache.
I honor my grandmothers, my mother, and especially my daughter.
Maggie, you reflected the truth, and broke me wide open.
Your tears the elixir to this useless torture.
Thank you, sweet girl.
Go and be free.
