And you, Mom. I loved you. You've asked if i felt and understood that you loved me. of course I did. And you know this. I loved your love because it kept me safe and happy and wanted, and it existed beyond words and hugs and eyes.
It lasted just a moment, whatever that is. One held breath? An ant's afternoon? It was brief, I can promise that much, for although it's been many years now since my children ruled my life, a mother recalls the measure of the silences.
She hadn’t seen gold since she’d lastbeen to her father’s home, when she would sneak off to meet him.Smiling at the brief memory of, as her mother called him, “the onewho gave me the seed which allowed for your presence.
Mom lies down next to me and we both stare at the ceiling in complete silence. “Boys are like candy,” she suddenly says. I grin. “Really, Mom? That’s your advice? Boys are like candy. What is that? Forrest Gump on teens?
Mom loved my brother more. Not that she didn't love me - I felt the wash of her love every day, pouring over me, but it was a different kind, siphoned from a different, and tamer, body of water. I was her darling daughter; Joseph was her it.
A brilliant idea is like a baby in a mothers womb.You need to bring it out in the world, nurture it, feed it, grow it, till it becomes big enough to take care of itself.If you leave it at the stage of an idea itself, it is as good as non existent.
Kodachrome... it gives us those nice, bright colors,gives us the greens of summers,makes ya think all the world's a sunny day,Oh yeah!I've got a Nikon camera, I'd love to take a photograph,so mama don't take...my Kodachrome away...
I heard in my own voice the tulmult of a young man playig a role, uneasily, repackaging black R&B music from America, relying on gimmicky outfits, and pretending to be wild & free when in reality he needed to be looked after by his mother.
I sympathize with a mother who has three mouths to feed—especially if two of those mouths are on her face. With a woman like that I’d listen twice as hard for doublespeak. I’m pretty accustomed to picking up on political rhetoric.
You were formed inside a borrowed womb—a nourishing safe haven for months—then delivered through painful effort and sacrifice by a woman willing to give you the precious gift of life. That truth alone deserves your gratitude and respect.
But it's not healthy!" replied the Hag. "A mortal and a god sharing the same flesh?""You know, this isn't why we're here. I can get abuse pretty much wherever.""Yeah," sighed the Maid, "but I bet a tenner I can make you cry in half a minute.
I don’t know how long we stand there holding each other. It could be ten minutes, an hour, or a day. All I know is that when I finally let go, I can breathe. I can rest. I can live knowing that my baby girl is happy. Knowing that she felt my love.
A day without your child is like a day without sunshine; a month without your child is like a month without laughter; a year without your child is like a year without your heart; a lifetime without your child is like a lifetime without your soul…
I’m just a girl, Mom.”“You are a woman, Andria. You are wise. You are gentle. You are bold. You are both a guiding light and a source of raging fire. That is what women are. How is our kingdom supposed to understand that, before you do?
Elizabeth Mattis-Namgyel, when asked how to strike a better balance between family, work and self-realisation says: "You need the intention, good scheduling, and you have to be creative. If you don't find time to practice, one of the three is missing.
