Cairo, the 5th May, 2011

How my mum sees me.

The picture in this post was painted by a friend,neighbour, fellow artist called Zeta (not Zeta Jones but one who also loves Zorro!).

When I arrived to Portugal and popped off to my bed in order to sleep my healing period recovery I woke up to the sound of my mother commenting with a neighbour the wonder of receiving this painting as a gift after mentioning to its author, again and again, that the painted image reminded her of me.

Now...my mum is a tough one. She has always been present in my life in a very supportive way but she is not the patting on the back kind or the one you can cry on her shoulder, if you need.

If she ever saw me feeling down, she would slap me out of it in a second making me remember of WHO I AM (whatever that means).

The only time she saw me cry, I could see the disappointment on her face for my weakness so...easy to see she is not the sweet heart you can cry with in times of sorrow but she is the TROOPER, the strongest woman I have ever met, the most hard working, honest and kind I ve seen so far.

And she taught me by example, never by words.

Having all this toughness in consideration, I must only add that compliments do not come from her mouth and she thinks I can always do better...

Then I get surprised when I listen to her - 0r my father - speaking about me to other people, when they think I am not listening.

As she described the painting and why she always thought the woman in it was ME I could feel tears rolling down my face, in silence.

Brave, wild, strong, never tamed by anyone or anything, FREE and beautiful. Those were my mum s words and they landed on my ears like honey. The kind of honey she keeps to herself but also the kind I can feel through her loving actions of support and POSITIVE pushing.

Because she believes I can always do MORE and BETTER, I tend to believe that I do.

Because she sees me like that gorgeous woman in the painting, I can also see myself in it and it feels GREAT!