Inside mom’s belly

When you do not remember a past history – either because you were very small or because it simply was not important to you and you swept it away from your memory, – you always have a pragmatic justification on the tip of the tongue for your “not remembering”: Ah! I was still in mom’s belly.

Between laughs, your brothers finish with a loving tone: – Oh Mada, you are always inside mom’s belly!

And every time you hide in that way again in what was your first little home, I hug you tightly and repeat quietly in your ear (so your brothers don’t hear it), that I also miss the time you spent there.

Your hand still fits inside mine.

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