I am a mother to my mom during this chapter; buttoning the glitzy young-girl-size blue jeans she is so proud of but can't put on herself. Her tiny little 83 pound shaky body bore me back when she had two beautiful small breasts instead of scars. My heart is split open with love and sadness, gratitude and grief, acceptance and duty.
Every day is Mother's Day, each day a different version of the being I knew and gently (but with fire) embrace.