A while has it been since I really looked at love and knew what it was. And when the one I loved stomped on love like it was a finished cigar butt, love lost its light. And I… I lost its meaning. But then again, it was I who was looking at the wrong places, wrong faces.
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Now, love is when…
- he runs to the kitchen to look at what I am cooking.
- she takes time to say, “Smellin’ good Mom!” on her way to the phone, and even when she is on the phone.
- he says, “Good night sweet Mommy!”
- she looks at me with tears in her eyes and says, “I will never ever stop loving you, Mom.”
- he thinks no one can ever smell better than me in the morning, at noon and night. Even at bedtime.
- she knows every pair of earrings I have and where I got them.
- he thinks I am the best Greensleeves singer in the universe.
- she draws, sketches and composes songs about no one else but me.
- he never misses the “I love you Mom! See you at 2 o’clock!” when I drop him off at school.
- she leaves the home-made cards of “I miss you loads and toads, Mommy” when I have to be away.
- he hands me a Kleenex when I sneeze, cry, sob and chop some onions.
- she reminds me about the morning hugs before we get in the car.
- they are the reason I wake up every day and sleep every night.
.
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The whole world can go tumbling down with its Jack and Jill.
I am at the top of the hill.
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Questa è Enida 