when you call out for me again
and another hot plate of food turns cold
with  each second that I hold you to sleep -
I remember
that I am teaching you what if feels like
to be loved without consequence
and never to accept less from anyone

when you say ‘mama’ and hold out your arms
I remember
I am creating a home in your heart for a hug
that reaches to your soul and warms you from the inside

when you tug at my ankles when I’m making tea
I sigh - but then I remember
that one day you won’t be glued to my hip
and you’ll sit moodily through a meal
desperate to return to your room

when you’re having one of those days
where you need all of me - and it feels like there is nothing left
I remind myself
these are the moments you might not remember
but that will stay etched like a blueprint
and become a part of who you are becoming

So I will read you another story
and I remember
that together, we are writing yours.