foto: Doris Markač
foto: Doris Markač

These days I often say to people, perhaps only because I seek comfort or their understanding, that each of us has their own Sofia. Although my Sofia is made of flesh and blood, it is she who keeps our hearts pumping, it is she who keeps us awake and it is she who is at times so difficult that we can imagine that without all this we could perhaps be happy.
You meet her, when you suddenly lose someone you had idealised. It cuts into your heart, because you’ve put all your hopes and dreams into these hands and now they leave you, these hands you’ve been building your castles in the sky with. It mutilates your insides when you are left alone with your children without your man. It pushes you forward when you are trying to deny it and still beg for your old life to return. You want just a drop of security, but she won’t let go and right before your eyes, she keeps pulling away all those things you’ve loved just a few moments back. She puts a child into your arms, a child with a tiny defect, a child who barely breathes and a child you will have to bury some day. At this moment you ask yourself »why me?«. You look at her loving eyes and ask yourself why can’t you have a normal child, just like other mothers? Why can’t you have a normal life? You simply don’t understand when other people sayyou were given this difficult »test« because you can manage it. Namely, in the silence of your own being you befriend your helplessness, you dance with fear and anger on the slippery floor of your life.
It sharpens your edges, when you look at your bank account. How happy you would be if only you had just a little bit more and you forget you that you would think the same when you would reach it.
You carry her in you when you realise you are not as healthy as you were yesterday. It bothers you when you know your days are being numbered. You gasp for life only when death is holding her one arm. You think that life isn’t fair, because you will perhaps have to die. Or even worse, someone you love to your bits is dying. Here, next to you. If feels you are battling demons, but you realise life is just like a car wash.
Sometimes you just have to put the car in neutral gear, keep your foot away from the brake and just let go. Let those big brushes do their work. Let go of all your problems that have been bothering you. All those problems that make your life, or so you think, difficult. There is only one thing or person or thing or problem that disturbs your peace. Because you are convinced that without it you would perhaps even be happy. Really happy.
Six years ago I was positive that I am missing this and that in my life. I was unhappy in my own comfort. Then she arrived into my life and she pushed me to the path where I slowly started letting things go. She opened my eyes to this one and simple life. Back then, at the maternity hospital, someone stepped out of me, someone that was carrying my name, but had nothing to do with me any more.

Today I know that with my Sofia – the greatest pain, fear and incomprehensible distress – I am actually happy and that I gave her a life six years ago when actually she gave birth to me.

foto: Doris Markač
foto: Doris Markač

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