Min mamma är också latent.

I have been writing for a long time. It started with diaries and end up here on the blog.
Writing makes the doctor go away. Brain doctor especially. Not that I need any.
Writing lightens the weight of the soul to 18grams. In this space, not affected by the moon,
I can decorate the words with pictures and sort them nicely on the front page. Blogging here is not
a need of approving myself, this has already been taken care of. It is more a collection of things I want archived, memories to look back at. State of mind for each day of the year? Pictures to discover. New interests to gain to describe and illustrate.  Extremely egocentric and mind blowing if I want.
If my mother was alive she would agree. I think she even would have started a blog. Maybe she would call it Elena Manea as her maiden name, or simply Elena the Great.
My sister and I asked her if she could tell us about her life when she lived in Romania. We got intensely comprised descriptions of her childhood. Finally after 25 years we told her that she must tell us where does she come from. Who was she? Who was her family? What did she do when she was young?
My mother had a sharp tongue and was very witty. When she put it in words I could feel the whole history behind her and the country she came from. It was sharp, satiric filled with black humor that only arises from a communist culture with background of war, hunger, passion, ambition or cruel intentions.
One of her stories about her childhood, describing the summer when her mother died, ended up in Hemmets Journal. Interestingly, the writing made her express herself in a channel which hadn't been tuned in before.
When the article was published she wanted to be anonymous. Typically Elena. It makes my heart bleed, thinking of her way. Mysterious and full of secrets which she happily kept thinking how interesting it was. She told me NOT to tell everything that happens to me to EVERYONE. You should keep some secrets! she said knowing that I can't keep my mouth shut or keep anything inside.
Well, this is a secret I don't want to keep.
I am so glad I can share this. I haven't shared enough about my mother. I will not be anonymous, writing the name of my mother. I want to post her words to print her being in the life she gave, to make her live right here on this blog. I will not archive her in the basement. I will bring her up. She would have loved me writing on the blog.
It is so sad she is not here to read what I think and do. My mother lives, Elena (Manea) Bramgren is more on Latent Lucia than anywhere else. Though she would call me 'Katarina'. Maybe that is the purpose of my blog. She made it happen.