The doctor said, "You have only three months to live." But I knew, Christie, that you would hold on. Hold on a bit longer. A bit longer, so I could see you for another few years. A bit longer to save my heart from wilting away. But you didn't, Christie. You went away, killing many behind.
I still remember the agony of childbirth, the pain it took to conceive you, to have you in my arms. But then when I brought you close to my chest, it faded away. Your gentle smile was food to my soul and the pain was soon lost. I had you after months of waiting and craving. I kissed you without a clue that you would betray me. I never realized then that you wouldn't hold on.
And when you started speaking, running around the house calling me 'Mamma', every word you said was music to me. And you remember your little playhouse where you used to hide the porridge? You remember your playhouse, all silver, and gold with the pictures of princesses all over it. You used to say, "I'll be Cinderella one day." The playhouse was so strong, it never lost its glitter, it still has all the princesses on it. But, my princess has been missing for long. I have been looking for her in every corner. How could she be so weak? How could she leave me behind?
You remember your first day of school? Your new uniform and your hairstyle. You said you wanted hair like 'Elsa'. Daddy got you a new haircut and you loved it so much. You were never like other children. You were stronger. You didn't cry once before leaving for school. My Christie knew she would meet me after a few hours. She left me with a smile and I promised to stay back till her school got over. After a few hours, you found me at the exact same place. You said that I was lying and that I had come back early, but Christie you never realized that a mother's promise is unbreakable. I was there waiting for you. I could never lie to you. But, Christie, you lied to me.You promised you would come out of the intensive care unit alive. You didn't. Did you never realize how much you were hurting me?
You remember your grey sweatshirt, your faded jeans, and your Pepsi cap? You are wearing them in half of the pictures I have of you. You remember the way you used to flick your two fingers to bid me goodbye. You remember your rosy lips, Christie? How you used to moisten them with the best lip balms. You remember your eyes, honey? The black in the sparkling white. You had very bright eyes. They used to say bright-eyed people have a bright future, and your stupid mother used to believe them. You remember your walk? You remember the way you used to talk? You were so full of energy. So strong. So tough. So bright. So beautiful. How could you do this to me, did you never think twice?
You loved the ocean, didn't you? You remember the day I took you very close to the water. You were barely five then. You remember how when your feet touched the water you jumped up and clung to me. 'Bad Mamma', you said, "What, if I had fallen down?". But you never knew Christie that a mother's hands could never loosen their grip. But you, Christie, you lost your grip on me. 'Bad child' should I now repeat?
Rest in peace, dear one. Know this, if you ever want to come back, you will still find me waiting for you with all your memories. I never lost grip, Christie. You did. Bad child, come back to mamma. She is waiting. She needs you. Come back honey, come back!
( A letter from a mother to her daughter who died due to genetic mutation as a result of the Hiroshima Blast)
