A letter to my mom
“J’habite en movement”, those verses by Samira Negrouche, made me think about us.
I didn’t inherit your white skin, nor your laughter full of joy (actually, I have a weird way of laughing). The curly hair, perhaps? But not those blonde curls you had. What did I inherit from you?
Honestly, I can’t know for sure. However, I guess, sense, that what bonds us, and was passed through our DNA, was movement. Movement without breaks, in its pure, chaotic and excessive forms. ADHD and cancer.
I don’t have the skills, the resources, nor the data to prove without a doubt that this brain of mine is so similar to yours. I can only make guesses. We both hated college, we both quit it. Sometimes I laugh when I see myself walking around the house, like a lion in a cage, on Sundays, just like you used to do. That overwhelming need to move doesn’t rest on Sundays. Actually, it never stops. You loved (and hated) in such an intense way. Did I get that from you? Anyone who knows me probably would say I did.
Now that I’m diagnosed and get the chemical support that makes my brain be more “functional” I can only imagine how hard it was for you. But you did it, you managed it in some way, did you? How many times, you might have felt lazy or a failure and never understood why. How many times? I’ll never know, but I’m looking backwards, and I’d loved to hug your (probably) neurodiverse mind.
Still, in this sleepless night, I keep thinking, and thinking. And thinking that just like our brain that never stops, maybe our cells never stop either. At least yours didn’t do it. A disease in which some of the body’s cells grow uncontrollably and spread to other parts of the body, even the cold medical definition can’t avoid naming movement. And just like that, some hyperactive cells took you away from us, and maybe one day they’ll take me away too. I can’t prove that either, just guess that is also in my DNA, like it was in yours. Who knows, I don’t.
I might be trying to connect random things, like if I’m the incarnation of the Pepe Silvia meme. Trying to face the future, while it plays with the stick that will use to break me apart. I wish I can hear your advices right now and that you could explain to me that inherited gene mutations are not the main cause of most cancers, but you can’t.
We learned the math to describe movement, but no one ever explained us our own movement. I live in constant movement (like you did, perhaps). You died because cells growing out of control and its movement (possibly one day I’ll). Nous habitons en movement, mom.
Originally published at https://javiercaleroguillen.substack.com.
