Writing: Agustina

This monologue was made in December 2020 as part of a final project for a class where I studied The Madres de la Plaza de Mayo movement and the impacts of the military dictatorship on Argentina. This is a fictional poem, inspired by studying the events in Argentine history and realizing this poem is a part of an exploration of the effects on my understanding of the world.

Agustina:

My beautiful, lovely baby: Agustina. You were born yesterday. Only a few moments old. You’re embarking on this journey of life. You’re asleep right now, so I’m trying to not make a sound so that you can sleep peacefully. 

We went from being together, tied, to being apart; we have become two separate beings. Two beings, able to be separated. Holding you close, I’m not sure for how much longer I can protect you. Every moment with you is so precious. 

Even if our time together is short, know that your mom loves you more than life itself. 

I’m not sure what awaits you in your long life. I know what happens to the mothers and babies here. I know I probably won’t get to see you grow, see you take your first steps, or see you say your first word: Mama. 

I hope to God that your life is filled with joy and happiness. I pray to God that he protects you. I pray that you are loved, and know that you are so loved, wherever it is that you go. I hope that they are good to you, my Agustina.

I want you to know that you came from love. Your father and I loved each other more than words can explain. We love you to the moon and back. There’s a piece of me that’s glad that you can’t understand my words; they could never truly capture how much love I have for you. And I hope you can feel it in your heart instead.

I’d like to imagine us going to the beach, and you playing with the waves. In this version of our future, you would ask us to get a dog, and I wouldn’t want to, but I would look into your beautiful brown eyes, and give in. So we would get a dog, your partner in crime. 

I’d like to imagine that you grow up to be an artist. Your aunt is a painter, I think that's the type of thing that runs in the family. Maybe a potter, you have really strong hands. You’re grabbing tight onto my fingers. It feels like you’re holding me back. Telling me that it’s going to be okay. 

Whatever you do in this life, I want you to find your passion. Find the thing that makes you excited to get up in the morning. I don’t know if I ever did that. Hold onto the people that make you feel enveloped in love. Hold onto the things that make you feel like you’re doing right by the world, the things that make you feel like you’re becoming the person you are meant to be.

I hope that you can feel these words, these sentiments. If I could tattoo these words on your heart, so as to know that, years from now, you will be able to access these feelings, I would do it in a heartbeat. 

I can’t know whether you’ll remember this, but I hope that you can feel what I am trying to say. I hope that you will feel me there with you in your highs and lows. Know that I will love you with every last breath -- even after I’m done breathing. 

I love you, my sweet Agustina.