Mama, I was watching you today.
You may not have noticed because my gaze wasn’t obvious and the day kept you busy, but, Mama, I saw it all.
I saw the tired in your eyes when you rolled out of bed.
I saw you sliding your glasses on and pulling your hair back—your around the house uniform.
I saw your frustration over the mess of bowls and Cocoa Puffs still cluttering the table.
I saw you pushing the trash down, determined to squeeze just a little bit more into the bag.
I saw you bouncing back and forth between the kitchen and the laundry, folding clothes between each batch of dishes.
I saw you fixing lunch. We complained that you were taking too long. We grumbled because we didn’t like the food.
I saw you sweeping the floor. We ran through and wrecked your pile.
I saw you go into the bathroom to take a shower. We interrupted you half a dozen times.
I saw you wringing your hands. I saw you squeezing your eyes closed.
I saw you stealing a snack, and vacuuming the carpet, and feeding the dog.
I saw you scrubbing a stain off the couch.
I saw when you were happy. I saw when you were likely to burst.
I saw you cleaning up after dinner. I saw as you finally collapsed onto the couch under a blanket.
I saw you when you didn’t think anybody else in the world was watching.
I saw it all, Mama. I see it every day.
And though I may be too little to appreciate it just yet, a day will come when I’ll finally understand.
And I just hope you never doubted for a second, Mama, you’ve always been my hero.
Originally published on the author’s Facebook page