Image of a sad man in a broken mirror

Mothers are there to protect the child, to chase away the monsters from our nightmares, not to be the feared monster. Not all Mother's Day are remembered with a reminiscent smile. The twisting of the soul began so long ago, that eighty years after it seems only yesterday. This book is about life, real life, the one many of us wish not to have been there, but we were, and nobody took the trouble to tell about. Fathers, supposed to protect the child should have been there too. "Bad memories" have a mother, her name? Solitude.