You don’t know this but, I tell my heart stories about you. I tell it how hard you work, the things you stand for. The hardships you’ve worked through.
I tell it about those secret tender moments, whereby your feelings escape and reveal a you seldom seen but always beneath the surface, wishing to be seen and appreciated more.
I tell my heart about your struggles, to feel connected, to feel seen. I tell it that there are human things going on inside you.
I tell my heart all the things I know about you. All the things you don’t quite realize are the best bits of you. The parts of you that my heart cradles close to it, because these bits of you, are the bits that hearts love most.
The real bits you don’t realize I see.
The bits of you that are human and greatly loved for simply existing.
These parts of you that make me glad to remember you. The bits I tell my heart about, so I don’t forget.
The bits that make me love you.
(With all my love, Mom)