You Are Loved.

You are loved.

When you wonder

how much space to take up in a room,

Or find yourself shadowed

by someone else’s gloom,

Remember that.

Sit in the silence of it—

consider how you came to be loved.

It was never anything that you did.

There was no disqualification round,

no contest.

The love was there,

whether you wanted it

or tried to resist.

While youth’s blindfold

took its time to loosen,

The truth never stayed behind.

What is love?

Some may ask.

Is it hugs, kisses,

tears dashed away,

the warmth of a special smile?

Sprinkles of affection—

yes.

But to be loved.

The way you are loved.

Is something more.

It’s the impromptu karaoke in the car,

Alicia Keys soaring through the minivan speakers—

Every Little Bit Hurts, uh.

It’s Michael Johanson on your lips

as your hand gets caught

in the closing car door.

It’s sideline pride, silent,

with 30’ banners, tide and starch,

figuring out ways to see a witch pass by

in a Fall Harvest March.

It’s glass that was broken.

Socks set ablaze.

Bowling alleys, skate rinks, dance halls—

wardrobe changes,

The love that sheltered you then

still remains.

The trips, the falls,

the perilous adventures.

The questionable calls.

The love that is yours

was there through it all.

And that is never going to change,

even though life will.

There will come a time—

not for a long time—

where you may struggle to recall

when that love began,

since the source will be gone.

But think again.

There was never a reason,

a start,

or a consideration of it.

It just is.

That is organic—

no beginning,

no end.

That you are loved.

That you are.

That. You.

Love, Mom