Most days these days I just want to get in my car and be home. And by that I mean the home I once knew. The Michigan home with my mom, with the family that felt like it did when I had my mom, with the love and safety I felt welcomed by at most every turn.
Most days these days I just want to have her to talk to, to speak every word I think and feel and just dump them at her feet. To have her insight and knowledge, her similar values pouring love and foundation and steadiness to my unstable days. I want her care for family and her understanding to give breath to mine as I fight upstream trying to figure this out.
Most days I just want to be a kid on her lap, a teen at her table, an adult at her counter and spill out everything I think and feel and have her take it in, safely, lovingly, her mom-way. I want her confidante, the way I trusted her, the way I knew the words that came from her were safe. I want her to be with me, walking these roads, and caring about these steps.
Most days these days I just want to slip into never-never land and wish it true. Wish that safety wasn't stolen, and I that could find her love, her support, her guidance, her secrecy, her trust, her values and live steadily in them....
