Sunday, May 9

mon mere

mom and I circa 1987

I've never had a friend who measures up to the friend my mother is to me.

She listens to me rant.
She holds me when I cry.
She sings in the kitchen with me.
She is the first person I want to tell things to,
big feats and insignificant little things,
like discovering Walgreens now has the body wash I used in Paris
but couldn't find when I came back to the states.

She's my best friend.
And I couldn't love her more.

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