I love to see the joy on her face when she sees mine.
I love how my name sounds on her lips.
I love our meandering philosophical-political-newsy-relationship-opinionated-sports-life talks.
I love that we have so many things to discuss that we never get to them all.
source: johnnycupcakes
It’s from her that I get my love of jewelry, my fierce patriotism, my sense of justice and my ability to stand up for myself.
It’s because of her that I walk with confidence, devour a good read, can enjoy time alone, savor the taste of home-made soup and welcome others with grace.
I chuckle when she reminds me to bring along a jacket, checks for oncoming cars when I’m the one driving us around and tells me to let her “do it” when I try to help her.
I don’t like to leave her.
I don’t like to step away not knowing when I’ll see her next.
So I never say good-bye. I just kiss her and whisper, “till next time.”
And when she leans in to ask that I please thank my guys for letting me come … I tell her through my sobs that I’m the one who is thankful.
For letting me go.
For loving me.
For being the kind of mother every child should have.
I don’t like to leave her.
