The Monster and its Mother

Grace

I have always understood love to be simple. We love people because we ourselves want to be loved. We love because we can. We love because… well there is no because, we simply do. Add all of these together, and you get my understanding of love. I try to be good to everyone, which can be said, that I try to spread love to everyone. However, as is with human history, this is not so easy. There will always be those which we consider unworthy of our love. These people become targets of hatred or maybe even something as simple as our contempt because we view some people as bad. Evil. Sources of pain. Everywhere you see examples of events that is so much the opposite of love. People or objects that perpetuate this event are bad and does not deserve to be loved. In horror movies. there has always been a line wherein you can tell what is good and what is bad, you can tell what to love and what to hate. We see zombies in zombie movies and hate or fear them. We see man-eating werewolves and we despise them. If so, what has driven someone to love something that is supposed to be hated, something that should be feared, something that must be destroyed?

Grace shows us how such an event wherein love is confused or maybe even misplaced. We see the birth of something that is bad, evil maybe. The american equivalent of our tsanak. Right away, we instantly fear and despise this creature. Surely, this baby is evil and bad. It just isn’t normal to even desire blood and flesh as a baby. It must be destroyed then. Love then should never be given to this devil baby. However, it has been indeed given, and its source, the mother.
I understand a mother’s love only to a certain extent. I can only feel it through my own mother’s love and through the experiences of people besides myself. However, I can never be able to fully comprehend it because I am a guy. I am not the one who will carry a baby for months and be the one to eventually deliver it. I won’t be the one to develop an even deeper relationship with my someday-crossed-fingers child by way of breast feeding. There won’t be any chemical releases in my body which will instantly make me love that comes out of that womb. There is only the common knowledge that a mother’s love is absolute. Few words can describe such an amazing thing. This love can be the sweetest and the most wonderful level of love in the world, or it can be the most fiercest thing on the planet when it comes to defending its child. Does this mean that a mother’s love will indeed be the fiercest thing in the world when the target of its love is something that can be called evil? Grace critiques the common notion that a mother’s love is always good that it becomes almost sacred. What if this sacred thing will be the catalyst for the birth of a monster?

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