The Unspoken Longing: Rediscovering the Power of a Mother’s Embrace

　Later, when we set aside our worries and sought solace in our mother’s embrace as we did in our childhood, we discovered that her aging arms could no longer contain our tears.
　　While conversing with some friends one day, the topic of crying arose. Everyone admitted that since growing up, we seldom shed tears unless faced with a relative’s demise or an immensely distressing blow. Sometimes, despite my longing to cry tears of joy, I must stifle them, shedding them discreetly, concealed from everyone’s knowledge.
　　Finally, a friend exclaimed with deep emotion, “My greatest desire now is to melt into my mother’s arms and weep freely when sorrow overwhelms me!” Regrettably, she believed she couldn’t. Ever since leaving home and maturing, she had convinced herself to be strong. Although seeking solace in her mother’s embrace was a form of release, even a source of happiness, she didn’t dare. Her mother was already anxious about her well-being whenever she ventured out alone. If she were to succumb to uncontrollable weeping, her mother would undoubtedly become even more uneasy. Consequently, she chose to smile and reassure her mother that she was fine, rather than cry when wronged, as she did in her childhood.
　　Each of us follows suit. Initially, we exhibit strength when distanced from our mothers, yet upon our return home, we can weep as much as our hearts desire. Gradually, we become strong externally, wearing a facade of cheerfulness at home. Mothers don’t wish to witness our tears. In our youth, crying only elicited more love from them. Crying now would only breed anxiety and worry. Later, when we set aside all our concerns and yearned to cry in our mother’s embrace as we once did, we discovered that her aging arms could no longer contain our tears.
　　As my friend said, this ultimate desire materialized when my mother passed away. However, the tears shed at that time were no longer bitter and resentful, but rather filled with pain, helplessness, and an unbreakable bond. Our first sob in life occurs in our mother’s embrace, and as time passes, when we once again fling ourselves into her arms and weep, our mother is already departing this world. Our first time, our mother’s last time—embrace and tears. How many years of missed connection lie between those moments!
　　Once, during my visit to our hometown village, I spent several days reuniting with childhood friends. On one afternoon, while at a friend’s house, I witnessed a scene that astonished me. He lay on a wooden bed, weeping in his mother’s arms, while his gray-haired mother embraced him, gently patting his back. Standing there, an overwhelming urge to cry suddenly washed over me. Clearly, this was an ordinary sight we witnessed in our childhood days. Meeting again now, those tears seemed to cleanse away the ravages of time.
　　My friend informed me that during his midday nap, he dreamt of his childhood days, lying beside his mother and falling asleep. Then he dreamt that his mother had vanished, prompting him to cry out loudly, thus awakening from his dual dream. Upon waking, he found himself embraced by his mother, and he clung to her, crying, just like a child in his dream. In that moment, I believe there was no trace of the romance of middle age in his heart. He remained the child from his dream, unable to bear parting from his mother, and those tears were as pure as they were in childhood.
　　Suddenly, I realized that crying in such a manner was a rare form of happiness. Perhaps for myself and for my mother as well. Truly, despite growing up and aging, we are still our mothers’ children, still in need of their nurturing care.
　　I yearn to weep once more in my mother’s arms, allowing my tears to merge into an ocean of joy. Disregarding the hardships of the world, casting aside the need to feign strength, I simply desire to preserve the purity of my heart in the moment of our embrace. Let your heartbeat warm my desolation, and never shall I be afraid.