Mart-deBlog

My mother visited me in Berlin this weekend. It was great, in many ways. The greatness comes especially from the displacement of the mother/son relationship away from parental home and the normal web of circumstances into the enormous city of Berlin. A city like Berlin is in many respects unlike home. Thus, when my mother visited, what one gets is an extreme strong emotional bond free from normality and everyday customs. The bond in its purity. Sometimes this can be scary, weird. I see the personality behind my mother, the child behind my mother and the woman behind my mother, and this intensifies the motherhood of my mother. Luckily Berlin provides everything to also simply and carelessly enjoy, many drinks, bars, art, jazz, sushi, shops and wide streets to stroll. Nevertheless, the intensity contrasts with the light air of the day. This became clearest when my mother left again. The little boy of 7 years old was back, suffering death from a simple goodbye, sad to even slightly separate from my mother, being left behind ruptured and torn. The honesty of this experience is memorable. It was a weekend of the authentic, true being together of a real mother and a real son. In Berlin style of course.