I just asked my oldest son if he knew I kissed his cheek and whispered “I love you” into his ears while he slept every night.  His reply made me cry for the tenth time today.  He told me that often in his dreams,  someone he’s talking to will whisper those words to him, in my voice,  and then carry on the works of his imagination without regard to the comment I’ve implanted in his slumbering subconcious.  He recalled it instantly,  genuinely,  with amazement.  He responded as if a great mystery now made sense. 
I guess my work is done.  All I have ever wanted for my children is that they KNOW,  with certainty,  that my love will never fail or flee.  He knows.  I’m sure his brother and sister know as well.  I can’t stop smiling and looking at their sleeping faces with awe.
I have had a rough mother’s day.  I miss my mother greatly,  though her strength lives within me.  I want her,  especially now.
Now that I have found some of the memories, hidden away. Not hers, but his.
I found a movie stub for “Juno” and a familiar phone number and name on a scrap of paper I have saved for nearly ten years.  They brought back too many memories for me to keep from rolling forth from my eyes. 
I saw how my motherhood began and compared it to it’s current state.  I have to say,  I’ve become one of the best.  But,  I’m only human,  still seeking approval,  validation,  and praise.  No,  I don’t need it,  but it would feel nice.
I’m never lonely,  always dripping in hugs and snuggles,  but I’m aching to be held by someone bigger than me.  Cradled,  protected,  cherished.  I haven’t had that in such a long time. 
That’s the biggest problem with being a tough chick. No one seems to realize that you desperately need the reassurance of a soothing embrace. I’ve often shuddered as many have tried to hold me, force me into a place of warmth. Help is uncomfortable for those who are unfamiliar with it, especially those who have fought long and painful darkness, years unending, to become self sufficient, knowing that needing someone often causes more pain when they fail.
I can metaphorically say God is holding me,  because he is,  but it’s not the same.
But,  I’ll be patient this time.  I’ll wait.  I can now.  I’m not the lost little girl I once was.
I’m a woman,  with abilities and assets that shant be wasted,  unappreciated, unloved anymore.
I can’t be hasty.  I need to be free again.  Freedom can be lonely when looking back at what’s been lost.  I’m not going that way,  though.  So,  eyes forward for now as I’ve managed to turn another house into a home,  lifting furniture like a beast and working all day,  into the night,  to create comfort in a time of disturbance. 
I fill my lonely spot with memories today,  ones I won’t insult with the terrible taste of tears.  I’ll feel the joy fill me without the thoughts of how it could’ve been, because it isn’t,  it just isn’t.
Happy mom’s day, beautiful creators.  Let my son’s words reassure you.  No act of love,  ignored or small,  goes unnoticed or to waste. Every bit lives inside of them,  even if you never know it.  So keep loving them like only YOU can,  Momma.  They need it.