And your Mother shows up in all new fashion and her eyes still the same and her smile still the same and the rings you wear she makes the smirk on her face because she knows her daughter and that rings and bracelets have been something of my individual self, the expression a part of what makes me me. I am okay. And she is too. As we embrace. We smell the same. We lived together for so long and I pulled her hair when I was a toddler and didn’t mean to and didn’t know what intended pain really was. She is the super hero for this life of mine, even when sometimes I don’t remember or think it or feel it. Until she is not here, she will always be there for me. And then she will be there for me some more.