Today I saw my Mother cry which I have only seen a handful of times in my life.
I looked her in the eyes and realized that my hands will never be big enough to catch all of the pain I want to heal. And then it hit me like a big train, the very people she was constantly trying to save were the ones stepping on her cape. I can't fix her pain no matter how bad I want to, so instead I told her we would buy her rain boots and if she'd let it the rain would wash it all away.
I told her that some part of her has always allowed her to keep moving forward, to choose to breakthrough.
At a young age she was taught to stand up for herself, that when life knocks her down she needs to get back up. That when the wind is knocked out of her it is a reminder of how much her lungs love the air.
She grew up believing that she will never good enough. To the this day she has yet to see the beauty within herself. While all along she has been raising two kids whose definition of beauty begins with her.
By the end of our conversation I was in awe looking at the woman who raised me.
Women like my mom are rare, her eyes never quit shining, she never quits giving, and she never stops loving.
So next time I am asked what I want to be when I grow up my reply will always be like my mother.
