Once when I was younger I was helping my mom set up the Christmas decorations and she dropped a clear tack onto the grey furry carpet and before I could say anything she bent down and began to look for it by running her hands along the carpet.
“Why are you doing that? Won’t it hurt if it sticks you?” Eight year old me asked with concern.
“Maybe but it’s better than you or your siblings finding it by stepping on it.”
This was the moment I began to understand that my mom would hurt herself before she ever hurt her children.
The moment I began to understand the love of a mother.