Anastasiya Torres

The Warrior Mom

Three days. The number that represents past, present and future. The number 3 that is creation and the number of sides of the strongest foundation on earth, the pyramid. Speaking of creation, it was on the third day sometime in 1985, after being intimate with my father, when my mom said she felt my soul implant herself right into her body. She felt me, this gentle and warm energy radiating right at her heart center. Now, back in Ukraine where I was born, this was a time where there were no early detection tests to determine pregnancy yet. My mom would have had to wait at least a month to know, yet here I was already making my presence known. This was uncanny and supernatural from the origins. This was a momentous time especially given that my mom thought she would never have children. Yet here she was in time, feeling a presence in her heart and body, a soul born of true love because she loved my father tremendously. Ever since I can remember, and given my mom’s testimony, from the second I came down to this earth, my mom and I have had and have such an unbreakable, strong and deep connection that’s unfathomable. She’s always been my protector and I hers. In my life, my mom has been the only constant. She’s always there like a lioness, roaring with pride or ready to shred an enemy to pieces if need be. I can always count on her to have my back weather sun or rain. So, when my mom decided to make her dream come true and emigrate to America, my dad didn’t come. Fact is my dad wasn’t ready for me, but the world was. One day when we were already living in Brighton beach New York (dubbed little Odessa, which is where we are actually from in the Ukraine), I asked my mom a profound question after a day of school. Apparently, all my schoolmates seemed to have a daddy, but I didn’t. So I asked my mom this in Russian, “Where is my dad, mom?” Well, with tears in her eyes, mom answered candidly, she said, “He didn’t want to be with us.” This part I’m about to tell you always makes me laugh a little, because although it’s a little bit sad and especially for my mom, I like how my mom describes my expression. My mom said I always reminded her of a little old lady because my answers and demeanor were so mature that certainly I am an old soul sitting within this child. Anyway, I look up at my mom as a four year old with this furrowed brow, pensive...and I reply, “Well, I have you mom.”