Who are you Pina?

It was cold morning, I can hear the rain hitting the ground and the smell when the first time rain touches the soil. I still remember every moment, every part of it. She used to wake me up with the smell of the coffee she made and a pair of toast bread that i am sure she prepared the night before. I must confesed, her toast bread is the best i ever had. I will give my all just to have it again. I heard a foot step coming towards me. I slowly turn around and the first thing i saw was her face. She smiled at me, but i was distracted by the sadness on her eyes. I get dressed and put my favorite pair of socks that she bought me last christmas. I sit in front of her as she was already waiting for me. She looks at me and smiled, but again, its not the smile that caught my attention, its the sadness on her eyes. "Its time" she sip a coffee and look at me again. I stared back at her as i have no idea what she is about to say. silence filled the space between us for a couple minutes before she pulled something under the table. "This is for you, I promised hime that i will give this to you when the time is right. " she handed me a small box, an old dusty box. I look at it and i look at her with all the confusion in my face. "Open it " she sip another coffee. I slowly open the box since its old i dont want to destroy any part of it. Inside there was a photo of a guy carrying a child. I turned the photo and there was a letter written in it. Im still confused, i look at her like im asking for explaination, Her tears starting to fall. For a moment, all i can hear was the rain, the boiling water, and a woman crying in front of me. My mother. I snap back on reality when the waitress serve my order. I nod at her as a sign of thank you. its been seven years since the last time I had conversation with my mother. Seven years since i left and find my real home. Im Tina, Twenty two years old currently living in philippines. I write for living. Im a big fan of books and poetry. those words that my mouth cannot spill are converted into letters and together they create stories. Ive been writting story for the past three years. But im still searching for my own, I turn the book i am reading to the next page. "Hiraeth" i fell into deep thoughts as i read the word Hiraeth. A home sickness to a home you cannot return to, or that never was. I thought i was home, I was contented and happy for the little that i had until i found out that i can have more. Did you ever wish that sometimes you have not seen things you are not supposed to see, or heared things you are not supposed to hear? Did you ever wish to have things again the way it was before? but deep down in your heart you know its not possible anymore? i give up