I decided to take a book on this recent trip. I walked up to my bookcase and found a small book I hadn’t read in awhile... “something I can always improve upon” I thought to myself.
The Art of Loving by Eric Fromm.
I am old fashioned. I like real books as much as I love my kindle.
I sat back on the plane, ready to start the flight and opened the book...
I hadn’t realized it was the book my mother gave me 29 years ago.
She inscribed it... (translated from Spanish)
”Love of my soul, happiness of my life:
May this book serve you perhaps to better understand the significance of what it means to love,
and by reading it may you reach toward the perfection of the art of love, which as you will Learn is not nearly as easy as it appears.
Even with this infinite love that I have for you, I feel that each phase that passes teaches me how to love you more and better in the truest dimension of what love means...
Te adora,
tu madre
Washington 1990”
I can’t hold the tears. I had forgotten this version of this beautiful woman who is my mother. It’s been so long since I’ve heard her express herself...
I am ever learning to love better. It is indeed not nearly as easy as it seems... but it is an art and it is the greatest gift of man’s experience as Ayn Rand writes...
I am sad that real books are fading and that we more and more rarely inscribe our gifts...
My mother was my best friend for so many important years of my life... She lived freely and easily... She was indeed an artist!
I miss her terribly right now,
but am so grateful to be her son.
I decided to take a book on this recent trip. I walked up to my bookcase and found a small book I hadn’t read in awhile...
The Art of Loving by Eric Fromm,
...and when I opened it my mother appeared...
Thank you for letting me share her with you.
in harmony,
Nestor