To My Mother

You always tucked our blankets,
You, never missed a dinner with us.

I remember you in my last day of leaving Romania, heading towards an unknown soil, people, language and food.
You pressed down one more apple in my luggage. You knew that I would be missing everything about our apple grove.
Knowing nothing, having nothing, starting from a big zero, a 0 shapped as an apple.

...and you cried, and you cried every time I talked to you on the phone.
Over the Atlantic you sent me your gratitude for a Canadian named Edison who allowed you and me to reach to each other.

You are gone now but thanks to the same Canadian, I still have you on my answering machine. You are here with me, your voice is here, I feel your soul is here.
I say to you now: HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY MY MOTHER!
Can you hear me? I hear you. Please let me know through the angels.