Ink Stained Soul…

As Mother’s Day approaches, I think of being your mama.

I think of watching you grow.
Of how the hardest moments carved the deepest places in my heart.
I miss the cuddles. I miss the baking. I miss your small bodies fitting perfectly against mine.

I think of sleepless nights — walking, rocking, praying.
Nights I kiss now, because I know what they made.

I remember the fears. The tears. What if. What may happen.
And I watch them turn into joy and pride as you achieve. 

I remember small voices, small laughter.
Now I watch you four on Christmas Eve, telling stories, laughing until tears of happiness fall.
You love. You fight. You come home to each other.
The bond of siblings — it’s there. It’s real. It’s my greatest relief.

Love. The legacy of love I got to give you.
That was the gift.
Not what I did for you, but that I got to love you.
I got to be your mother.
And for that, I will forever cherish it.
Always