It's been a long time since I wrote about Sybil. And I think I never wrote about her alive. It's time to repair both of these defaults, I think.

I don't know if these words will have the meaning I wanted to give them, nor do I know if the structure of this letter is in accordance with the English letters, but I hope you will like it, and that you will be forgiving, either for that or for my spelling mistakes.

Have a nice reading!

The words of a mother

May 1919

My darling,

I'm glad to hear that you like Dublin, and that your new life pleases you. I'm sorry I missed the wedding. I should have been there, to be there by your side. It is true that in my condition, I could not have traveled, but know that I will regret the fact that I missed my younger daughter's wedding all my life. Still, let me wish you all the happiness in the world, my darling. But, as you will understand it, this letter is not only there to congratulates you, at least, not mainly. Your sisters told me about your conversation after the wedding. I know you made them promise not to say anything, but don't blame them. I insisted, and they had no other choice. I knew you would have this conversation. And I don't blame you.

It's true that, when your wedding was announced, I reacted very badly. I tried to stop you, and your father after me, not mentioning your grandma. I apologize for this, sincerely. Deep down, I already knew you'd go through with it, and I applaud your courage. No, I don't blame you, sweetheart. Nor do I regret letting you become a nurse. I don't regret any of this, because I know now that you were happy as a nurse, and that you are happy with Tom. I know that, despite your pain about your father's reaction, and certainly mine, a smile is printed on your face every day. And I couldn't wish for more.

When you will become a mother yourself, you will understand that each of us has only one wish. We want to make our children happy. The problem is that we know life, when you are just about to discover it. We know the joys and the happiness of it. But we also know the traps, and the tragedies, that belongs to it. All we want to do is keep our children from suffering. And often, this involves prohibitions, obstacles that we put up on your roads to make you deviate. It is not a question of making you suffer in our turn, it is a question of pushing you down the path that we think is the safest for you. Some, to not say many of these are necessary. But sometimes, by doing this, we push you in a direction that, if it suits us, doesn't suits you.

Unfortunately, we often forget, or at least I forget, that you have a life to lead, with its experiences and consequences. I forget that it's not my life we're talking about, nor my desires or my dreams. I forget that it is not my anguish that must take precedence. And, I must admit it, I forget you're not a child anymore. Over the past few weeks, I have realized, much more than ever before, that a mother is not only there to protect her children and establish them in a safe life. A mother is there first and foremost to help them to live the life they wants. It hurt, and it's hard to let you go, because I love you, but honey, you can't do anything for it, and it's time for you to live. To live fully. To be the woman you want to be. To be you. Don't worry about us, as long as you are happy, we will be, and we ... I will support you, now.

I understood that all these years, we have not seen what a beautiful young woman you were becoming, with her values, and her strength. It is a shame, and I apologize for that. I apologize for not seeing what you were becoming. I apologize that, under the pretext that you were doing better than your sisters, I could let you in your corner make your life, and only come back to correct what didn't suit me. I don't say "we" because I don't know what it's all about for your father. But know that, throughout these years, there has not been a single day that we have not loved you. Of that, I'm sure. I'm not writing this letter to make you feel sorry for me, much less to make you feel guilty. I don't see myself as a bad mother either, because I did my best. I just hope it was enough. But I wanted to be honest, just like you were with us.

Your sisters told me how you felt that night, alone in front of us, when Tom came upstairs. They told me that despite your strength, despite your firmness, your voice had shaken. They told me that that night, when you went back to your room, you cried, alone in the middle of those shadows that had become familiar to you, as you chose a different path. They told me that, even when you became Tom's wife (may I call him Tom?), you had a doubt, because we hadn't supported you.

Have no more doubts, my darling. You have chosen the path that seemed to be the best to you, the one that makes you happy, the one that has given meaning to the life you have led until now, since the war. It was our mistake, not to support you in this choice, perhaps the most important choice of your life. It wasn't yours. Here is my blessing, for your new life.

I am so proud of the woman you have become.

Be happy, sweatheart,

I love you


Thanks for reading!

I hope you liked it ^^ Let me know your feelings about it :)

For readabilities reasons, I did not use italics for all the text. I hope you understand.

Have a nice day!