Streaming flow

Let’s not make any plans. That was the constant mantra my mother held to. I used to think that it was my mother’s way to ignore any requests or wishes I had. It looked like the easy way out of a conversation she did not want to have.

“Mom, next month there is a party at my friend’s house, may I go?”

“Let’s not make any plans, we’ll see later.”

I grew up and I did start making my own plans, simple things like going to the cinema or organizing a trip somewhere.

“Mom, I just wanted to let you know that this summer I will be away for two weeks with my friends. We are going to Rom.”

“Let’s see, let’s not make any plans.”

This is the time when this sentence started to sound weird. It was my holiday and there was no part of the plan, which involved my mother. Not even paying for the trip, as I had my own money.

Let’s not make any plans, as if she were just a step away from falling death on the floor and had no time left to make plans. Let’s not make plans, because if she does not have any, she cannot be disappointed that they did not work.

Fear of living, fear of failing, allowing the blows of life to take you here and there, in a meaningless motion which brings nowhere. Or maybe was it because the only time you made a plan, mom, all went so wrong?

Years have passed, and now you seldom tell me not to make any plans. Our lives physical distant, our connection hanging together by a fragile thread which we know will soon get loose, your dull eyes rest on my face, you give me a hint of what once was a smile and you say, “lucky you that you still want to make plans”. But there is one which I am not in a hurry to make.

“Shall we spend Christmas together next year?” I ask. This time your smile stretches a little more, happy to have a rock to grasp in the streaming flow of your planless life.

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