They know me. They smooth over my shortcomings as if they never notice. They cheer my every victory as if it is their own. They bubble over with little-boy breathless giggles through my silly days. They quietly offer patience through my focused days. They say I'm beautiful whether I'm skimmed in flowing black velvet, or just rose up slowly from warm, drawn covers. They know my passion for chocolate fudge and potato chips. They know my disdain for blue cheese and caviar... fish eggs, they'll tell you. They know exactly what is about to be heard from my lips, before my voice makes a sound. They know me.
They know my heart.
The thunder of their little boots rises up the deck stairs. From the warm embrace of our kitchen, I hear stifled giggles. I see wide eyes. We reach the screen door together. As it stretches open, their little hands draw from behind their backs... love. Two of their mama's favorite wild daisies... plentiful this time of the season... with their pure, white petals dancing in the wind beneath the trees.
They hold them up... an offering... all smiles... faces glowing... eyes sparkling.
"For you, Mama!"
They know me. And I, them. And I can't imagine a richer gift.
From my heart,
Susan
