lucila soto

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Two April 27, 2018

Filed under: Heartfelt — Lucila Soto @ 8:09 am

He sleeps on my lap while the shock of his reality hits me.

Inadvertently I catch our reflection on a glass door while walking hand in hand through the busy street and his reality hits me.

He cries after a fall and comes open-armed to find solace in me and his reality hits me.

Two years today and I still get surprised by the power of his presence.

Growth. All about him is growth.

Size of course, but also growth of love, patience, strength and wisdom.

Independence has given him the means to be more his own, this challenges us all as limits are tested while respect and dialogue build up.

Each day brings the knowledge of his character flourishing. I try hard to fill them with experiences and adventures, not with things. My time is his and we explore with it, we learn with it, creating fond memories and teachings.

I will forever be worried for him, I now know, but I will let him be true to himself. Since birth a fierce force of nature that has to be trusted not tamed nor restrained. Let him keep raw but be a master of his own emotions, that is the balance worth fighting for. To support you darling child, that is what I’m here for.

Another year has gone by with you my child, and as you extend an inviting hand I gladly accept and take it, to walk in confidence and awe the path you’ll have me walk. My love so strong, heart and soul, it walks with you forever more.


Not a Mother[but learning to become one]

Filed under: Heartfelt — Lucila Soto @ 7:57 am

3 months after, for Bruno
How we start as rudimentary beings with not much but basic survival instincts and pure ego amazes and appalls me; it is also very difficult to like. At least well-brought-up folk were meant to dislike selfishness, intolerance and impatience. These are what a new born is all about.
A baby is a young-man’s job -a friend said- or a woman’s I should add, so I feel more tired than words can describe and lack of sleep is showing in a bad way.
But it is -just as I once read- at 4:30 in the morning while changing yet another soiled nappy -feeling all at once exhausted, completely bored and irremediably in love with this little screaming creature laying before me- that it dawns on me: my mother did this for me. For each of us (most of us? the lucky ones?) a mother, a father, a grandmother or some other caregiver did this for us; so in addition I become so grateful I feel like crying.
There is this unfathomable chain that goes back and around each generation, linking us and speaking of the universal word/concept love. No other thing than love can carry you to safe-heaven when confronted with the hard-boiled fact that is a baby and -as a wide and ever-growing list of songs and writings rightfully claim- it is love that will save the day.
There is no corniness in this statement -believe me! I know now I was not born a mother, but I sure am learning to become one. I’ll explain: I have no maternal instinct, not feeling in my gut guiding my every action regarding Bruno and I can’t wait -can’t wait- for him to have reasoning and consciousness enough so I can explain and he understands.
Mostly it is scientific approach of trail and error, thesis, etc that I use to solve and overcome the many problems Bruno presents.

It is also him who teaches and guides me every day to understand his needs and cares, some of them patiently and others with rage.
I also know I will not have another baby. The mere fact I have him is one I still haven’t completely made my peace with.
Then again there is no cynicism in that last part. Because there is also love-complete, love-unconditional, love-eternal. The kind you have never felt before and is only reserved to a child: no matter who he is and becomes nor what he does and will do, you will always love him.
So yeah, I love motherhood, I just don’t like it… yet.

Such a guy

Filed under: Heartfelt — Lucila Soto @ 7:36 am

Raw to the marrow
Wild and untamed

The strongest character

My sweet undoing

Mischievous smile

Gloriously clear laughter

A never clenching thirst of learning

A relaxed elegance of teaching

Each day a challenge,

Each day a triumph
Time goes running,

days becoming lifetimes

A concept child who became

a twister made flesh,

a veritable force of nature

Here, now softly breathing

Resting between my arms.
There’s pride in life now

A proud mother of a proud child

Unstoppable feelings

Comme l’orage, comme la tempête

Only growing: larger, stronger.
A year and a half to celebrate

The certainty of true and

unstoppable love, richness in life

My child -yes, my child!-

forever and forever more.