You are my Mother. As the world comes fast, loud, and bright, I cry out. The cold air fills my warm lungs and I am afraid. Your lips graze my still-soft head and I know, in this moment, that everything will be okay. Your voice is familiar and, for the first time, I’m meeting the person who sang to me and wished for me as I tumbled in the deep.

You are my Mother. You hold me in your arms as the world lays sleeping while I cry. Bubbles in my tummy. Ache in my ears. Sometimes I just want to hear your voice or rest my body against your soft chest. You rock me. Bounce me. Sing to me. Love me. I snuggle in close and let the warmth of your body take me further and further into Dreamland.

You are my Mother. You smell like home and you look like sunshine. I see your eyes shine with pride as I pull myself up for the first time. They fill with happy tears as I wobble on these two stilts called legs. You reach your hands out to me from across the room and tell me I can do it. I see in your face that you believe in me (so I believe in me too), and we laugh joyfully as I take one step, two steps, three steps, four—and fall into you. Now I know that you will always see the best in me, that you know the secrets of my potential before I do.

You are my Mother. And I am a tornado, ripping through our home as I discover and explore. I pull papers off of the table, take the change out of your purse, and make masterpieces on the wall. Around every corner is a fresh adventure, and I seize the moment before your footsteps find me. Every move I make seems to beckon your presence. This makes me feel powerful. I laugh. You shake your head and pick me up. A kiss on the head reminds me that your love is unconditional.

You are my Mother. On days when I feel out of sorts, when the rainstorms are coming from within, you seem to know just what I need. A cup of cocoa. A hand to hold. A blanket on the couch next to you. I don’t have to say a word. Our hearts are connected so we send messages back and forth. No matter what I’m feeling, you never ask me to be anyone other than myself. When you look at me, I know you still see that newborn whose head you once kissed so tenderly. I may take giant leaps now, but you see a wobbly giraffe. And you are filled with pride when I take one step, two steps, three steps, four.

You were my first hug, my first kiss, my first love. You are my Mother.

Posted by:Varagesale Blog

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