My mom is a small woman in my embrace. She is my mom and yet she is so much smaller than I. She loves being huged and giving hugs and I notice that because it's the most important thing about a relationship to me;

The Embrace: to expose the soft organs of the body completely and flatten the heart specifically against another's heart. To touch the hearts. To smell the odor. To talk to energy. To listen to energy and to simultaneously shout, mandate, offer, suggest, understand, assimilate, resolve, hold, hold, hold, reciprocate.

To hold my mom close in public. It is wonderful. It is obvious. It is me loving my mom. It is no weapons, only open arms.

She is such a special woman. Aloof and dare I say cute. She held me when I was small enough to fit entirely in her embrace and she loved me with all her might. I don't really remember that early on, but I am who I am today and that tells me without a doubt: my mother held me. I live proof of being held.

I hold my mother, too.

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