Sometimes, all I need to feel the world pause is her hand holding mine. We left with no rush, just craving a walk, watching the street lose its color and the sky sink into that orange-and-night mix. I stop to look at her—not because she says anything deep, but because she’s simply there, smiling like nothing could ever hurt. And I get it: these hours are tiny eternities I want to keep.
Then, without meaning to, we looked for ice cream. A random corner, a shared craving, warm brownie, melting cream. It’s not about the food—it’s what it stands for. Because in that spoonful that melts too fast is her laughter, her messy mouth, and my aching need to hold her as if that could shield her from everything. And no, I’m not always the perfect mother, but I try to be one who listens. One who stays.
Still, I like to keep things. Save them. Freeze them. Not just on my phone, but inside my memory. Time will pass, and maybe she won’t remember every bit, but I will. This moment under the soft lights, her head resting against my chest, the way she dances with no music. I save it all. Like I could fold time and come back here when I miss it too much.
Nevertheless, I know it’s not always light. Some days the world doesn’t seem to leave room for tenderness, and it scares me to think of what she’ll face alone. But tonight, she’s still mine. And I’m still hers. I promise to teach her how to walk even when her feet hurt. How to laugh, even when it rains. How to live truthfully without needing to run from mine. I don’t believe in love that needs distance—I believe in love that holds on.
Eventually, we go home, feet a little dusty and hearts filled to the edge, and I realize: this too is being a mother. Not just correcting—accompanying. Not just teaching—learning. She gives me more than I could ever give her. Her honest laugh, her clear gaze, the way she forgives my flaws. So yes, it was just the two of us… but really, we were everything.
All photographs and content used in this post are my own. Therefore, they have been used under my permission and are my property.
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