A Kiss on the Head
I sit at my desk reading mum’s stories from Auschwitz, and about a lady called Yetka Salzberg. Her daughter Simone had asked me to send her any info I could find about her mum’s past, as her mum and my mum were fellow Auschwitz inmates.
As I read, I notice mum slowly stepping around me looking for a dirty plate to wash or a piece of rubbish to claim. I can feel her behind me, standing quietly, thinking her slow muddled thinking, and then she leans over and kisses me on the shoulder.
I don’t like when she does that, it makes me cringe. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I didn’t grow up with kisses and hugs and maybe I’m slightly detached, and maybe it’s an odd mother-daughter thing that happens sometimes.
All in all, I know that she loves me to the sky, and likewise I love her hugely, but I still cringe :-)
I ask mum to tell me more about Yetka. I fill in the details and slowly she remembers. She says she remembers a lot 'but not now, she wants to relax.’
Note: This pic doesn't match but I didn't have one of mum kissing me on my shoulder at my desk