My literature mother

My literature mother,
I would not have any other.
The passion behind it
"Come on we've got lit"
Not only my teacher,
You may as well have been my preacher.
Guiding me here
Supporting me there
Even "what are you planning to wear?"
The theatre trips
And reading afternoons,
Then followed after was the statement of "I'm leaving soon."
I felt like my little heart had just shrivelled up like a prune.
Months on down the line,
I let out a little whine.
The goodbye was the hardest of all,
A huge hug and a "I'm always here if you need to call."
My maternal figure,
Please don't let our relationship slither.
You have a special place in my heart,
You're there lingering in every poem,
In every single part.