love. love. love.
they line the card aisle dappled in daisy chains and pink pink bouquets of mother love. they stand unknowingly all in a row fresh for the viewing through the filter of my own eyes.
i’m seeing mother’s day differently now.
who would have known how hard it would be to pick out a card this year? i’m smiling as tears fill my eyes and my heart splashes emotion onto the shiny tiles under my feet. the feet that keep me grounded in this store of mother love and distance and time and space and living and dying and missing and forgetting.
i am spilling over.
what i want to do is gather up these people, these strangers in flip flops and t-shirts. these men and women, these sons and daughters to someone equally as important to them as my own mother is to me.
i want to gather them all up into a hug and whisper in their ear, a promise.
love her everyday. not just today.
even if she disagrees with your choices or hair or parenting style. even is she sends annoying email forwards with dancing bears, even if she monitors your texts, or even if she gives you so much space you are left with only an echo.
love her everyday. through all of it.
she was home, she was the womb. the birth. the grief. the worry. the letting go. the gathering up. the beauty. the tears. the pain. the truth. through it all. she was home.