The thought for today?
Love the moment. Even if you come back to the same house with all the same people, under the same circumstance, things will never be quite like this moment right here.
Each moment is unique and will never be like any other.
And always love the people you’re sharing these moments with.
“Listen,” your voice now a pleading whisper. “This struggle? I can save you from it. I’ve fought this same beast. It’s scary, I know. My battle is now over and I’m here at the top of this hill I’ve conquered. All I can see turning back, is you, blindly throwing your arms at this enemy. I’ll guide you past my pitfalls, carefully circumventing your direction. Trust me, and listen. It’ll save your heart from bleeding too.”
Pick somebody: my mom.
Quality: I lose track of time with her in the best way.
My favourite time spent with my mom has always been spent just talking. It doesn’t matter where.
Her in the driver’s seat, me riding shotgun; and later on, me in the driver’s seat and my mom riding shotgun.
In this country, or thousands of miles away on a little tropical, middle-of-nowhere island.
At a McDonald’s at 3am, or at a 3rd story apartment kitchen table at 3am.
My father was always shaking his head and saying “Go to bed, you have to be up in 2 hours!” “You done with that paper? Time for bed.” Then came the resigned words as this became a habit, “Don’t stay up too late..”
After being away from my mom for 3 months (quite the eternity for us) we got back into full swing last night, talking about life and love and trials and faith and direction. I could’ve sworn we were only chatting for 30 minutes but according to the clock, we were talking for 4 hours. I’ve forgotten how much I crave the time we lose together.
We like to give new, slightly different meaning to “burning the midnight oil.”
Oh my poor father. (;