shouted the young woman to the older one. in her high heels pronouncing her slim ankles, her skirt dancing around her sexy legs she rushed over the street.

I was absolutely stunned by her elegance and the ability not to get stuck in the gaps between the cobbles.

few steps behind her… limping in the fastest version she was able today… her mother.
catching my look, I sensed the elderly lady’s embarrassment. unclear if it was because of her own experienced weakness or the humiliation by her daughter.
puddles in my eyes.
I felt her pain,
and sighed out loudly…

after years of traveling, knowing my parents nearby, every day with them feels like a new one.
they are not anymore the strong, strict and huge adults I once saw as a child.
they know now different things than I do.
they have no idea of online stuff, modern researches, and countries I have been to.
they are less fast then they used to be. when they stand up, it’s a slow unfolding from the chair.
they are less fast than before.
their breath is sometimes heavier.
their inhale shallower.
bending seems to become difficult.
they get tired faster.
their silver threads on their head became abundant.
their skin is getting slightly transparent.
and every time I see them, their smiles are framed by some more wrinkles.

look at them, friends!
look at your parents.

look deep into their eyes.
find the spark of life keeping them going.
while we grew up, they grew older.
If you feel challenged by their speed, softness, vulnerability, understanding and especially inability to follow up with modern technology… give them your hand.
kiss them.
embrace them.
have patience.
and remember…

who was it again who encouraged you to stop shitting into the diaper?

with love.
so grown up.
yet impatient at times.

Violeta Labella