Επιμέλεια: Εύα Πετροπούλου Λιανού
They have gone…
and the house has fallen silent,
as if even the walls
can feel their absence.
For a little while,
my home was filled with life—
with the voices of my children,
the laughter of my grandchildren,
with little footsteps
that awakened my soul
and brought peace to my heart.
I had them close to me,
and for a while,
distance and exile felt far away…
I did not count the days,
I counted the moments.
Every morning was a joy,
every evening a blessing,
every embrace a treasure
I never wanted to lose.
But the holidays came to an end…
and that day arrived—
the day no mother ever wishes to face.
They have gone.
The suitcases were packed,
the goodbyes lasted longer than usual,
and my eyes tried to smile,
even as my heart was breaking.
I waved goodbye,
but they took a piece of my soul with them.
Now,
the house is still the same,
but the voices are gone.
The toys are still there,
but little hands no longer touch them.
The door opens and closes,
yet I still wait
to hear:
“Mom…”
And the tears fall on their own…
I do not ask why,
because I am a mother.
A mother never truly gets used to goodbyes.
She only learns
to smile through her tears,
to wait with longing,
and to keep every last embrace
safe within her heart.
They have gone…
but their love
has remained here,
in every corner of this home,
in every beat of my heart.
And I will wait.
Because mothers
know how to wait for as long as it takes…
when, at the end of that waiting,
there is an embrace
called my child.
