The loftiest weight that I’ve born is to be worthy of the mantle.
Of being your son.
As I stand humbly, cloaked in the realization that I am you.
Knowing that I am truly unworthy of what you have given me.
Life – this air I breath.
And if I fail as a writer to elucidate the supernatural confines of love that surges through your veins.
That would be nothing short of criminal.
You’ve always been the definition of selfless magnanimousness, doing what had to done without the expectation of accolades.
What I want is simple on this and each day thereafter.
I just want you to be proud of me.
I want to justify the investment and sacrifices that you made.
I want to be worthy of the love that you have imparted to me.
A love that has saved, fortified, forged me with resiliency and enabled me to do what was hard.
Your shoulders have not buckled over the years against the ravages of ugly, as you’ve stood and infected me with your countenance.
I am proud of you Momma.
This fortitude you’ve gifted me.
You are powerful beyond measure and you need to know that and whomever reads must bear witness to this fact as well.
You’ve built on the legacy of those powerful women that have come before you.
Given the reality that what is posted on the Internet stays there forever, my ensuring that my adoration and appreciation for you procures some measure of immortality is only fitting.
So here’s to forever Momma.
Happy Mother’s Day, I love you!