Motherhood is a tapestry woven with threads of love, joy, pride, and, inevitably, heartbreak. As a mother, you witness the miracle of life from the moment your child takes their first breath. You nurture them, guide them, and hold them close, never truly ready for the day they will step out into the world on their own. Yet, that day comes, and as much as your heart swells with pride, it aches with the weight of separation.

For me, this separation has been magnified by the miles and oceans that now lie between us. My son, my heart, has returned to Poland while I remain in India—a life split between two worlds, two homes, two families. The distance feels cruel at times. I envy those who live in the same place, who can see their children grow and share in their lives daily. I envy the simplicity of being together without the constant countdown to the next visit, without the tearful goodbyes and the ache of waiting for months, sometimes even years.

And yet, in this sorrow, I find gratitude. Technology has become my lifeline, allowing me to hear his voice, see his face, and share moments that once would have been lost to time. I don’t have to wait for letters that take months to arrive; instead, I can video call him and feel, for a fleeting moment, like we’re in the same room. But no technology can replace the warmth of his hug, the sound of his laughter echoing through our home, or the simple joy of seeing him walk through the door.

As a mother, your heart is a paradox. It is undyingly strong, filled with the deepest love that knows no bounds, but it is also so fragile, breaking under the weight of goodbyes and longing. No matter how old they grow, no matter how far they go, your children will always be your babies. A mother’s heart never stops craving their presence, their love, and the completeness that only they can bring.

Living between two worlds has taught me the bittersweet nature of life. It has made me appreciate the rare moments when we are all together, but it has also left me yearning for a place that we can all call home—a place where the distance fades and my family is whole again. Until then, my heart will remain restless, balancing the joy of their independence with the ache of missing them.

To every mother living in this duality, torn between pride and pain, I see you. Our hearts endure because they are made of love—the kind that never gives up never fades, and never truly says goodbye. For now, I hold onto hope, waiting for the day when my tears of longing will turn into tears of joy. And when that day comes, I will embrace it with the fullness of a mother’s heart—a heart that is strong, fragile, and endlessly waiting.