It’s a tradition that began when she was young.
as her mom would tuck her into bed…
she’d make sure she was comfortable…ready to dream….
then she’d kiss the top of her head.
“I love you Mommy.” She would whisper…
Then, as they had done the night before,
her mom would smile, touch her cheek and whisper,
“I love you more.”
Perhaps love is what creates traditions.
Certainly it’s how this tradition came to be…
a simple exchange of whispers in the night
that imprinted on each memory.
Even during her teens…
when her mom would say goodnight from the other side of her door
She would whisper, “I love you Mom.”
Her mom would smile, close her eyes and whisper…”I love you more.”
When she was grown and on her own
after every visit she’d stop at her mom’s front door
as they hugged goodbye she’d whisper, “I love you Mom.”
and her mom would whisper…”I love you more.”
And when the time every child dreads came…the time to say goodbye
she held her mom’s frail hand in hers and together they began to cry.
Now it was the daughter’s turn to tuck her mom into bed…
to make sure she was comfortable, ready to dream
to kiss the top of her mom’s head.
“I love you honey.” Her mom’s final words
whispered as she had a thousand times before…
her daughter smiled…touched her mother’s cheek
leaned over and whispered…”I love you more.”
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