She knew what foods I craved and what made me kick.
She nourished me every second since she learned of my conception and every second since I took my first gulp of air in this world.
Nourished my body with hers.
Nourished my character by speaking strong words-love words, to build me up and make me believe I was courageous and beautiful.
Nourished my heart by hiding it in hers.
Nourished my soul by introducing me to Him.
Nourished my deep hurts and pains and guided me safely through the turbulent waters of adolescence.
Nourished my wearied and worried and wonder-filled first-time mommy mind.
She doesn't mind my bad moods. Or my arrogance. Or my naivety.
She overlooks my bad habits and my annoying idiosyncrasies.
She sees only good and loveliness and hope and potential and she convinces me, if only for a few moments at a time, to see it in myself, too.
She rocks my babies now. And whispers good things to them. Building them up as she built up their mother before them.
She knew them. She knew them before they took their first breaths.
She's worn many hats and she's tied many shoes and she does it all with alarming beauty and grace and selflessness.
She's my children's grandma.
She's my hero.
I just call her Mom.
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