I Miss Them Little

A mother’s love

I miss them waking up during the night, their noses burrowing into my neck. The puffs of warm breath as they settled back into sleep, knowing I was there.

I miss that being all they needed for the world to feel safe.

The tousled heads when they woke up. The sound of footy pajamas padding down the hallway.

“I love you, Mommy. You’re my best friend.”

I miss being the coolest person they knew, though it was only because their world was still so small.

Bedtime stories, prayers, and tucking them in tight.

I miss the uncomplicated, before their problems grew with them. Now, I often have no real answer for them. All I can do is listen.

I am so proud of these young women we are raising and have raised — they are still my heart and soul — but I miss them little with everything in me.