I tried to tell you how immensely proud I was but your kindness left me speechless.

Instead I hugged you, squeezed your hand three times "I. Love. You" and whispered something only you would hear. The last thing I wanted was to interrupt a memory that I (and maybe you too) will take to the grave, so I hid in a corner and watched from a distance.

I observed patience - the same kind you had as a toddler when building block towers, never growing tired until the job was done. Today you stood quietly beside your grandmother acting as her assistant, as she styled her mother's (your great-grandmother) hair for Easter Sunday. I witnessed you handing over one hair roller at a time in your signature serious nature. My heart swelled with pride when your hands were empty because you finally found the freedom to massage your great-grandmother's back. I recognized love - the same kind you had as a preschooler when you begged for cuddles, always taking mental notes of the way my hands gently moved over your body which you later tried on your beloved stuffed animals.

I am so proud to be your mom. I hope you never forget what I whispered in your ears, just for us to remember. I never will.