It was always you I'd call when something broke. Leaky faucets, frozen pipes, cars that don't start. You would come. Every time. Right away.
It was always you I'd call when I needed to make up my mind about something. Should I go to college? Should I take the job? You'd laugh and shake your head and tell me that no matter what choice I made, you knew I could do it.
It was always you I'd call when something exciting happened. I'm buying a house! I got a new dog! I'm gonna be a grandma! You were always excited for me.
It was always you who believed in me. I want to build a yoga studio. I want to open my own business. I want to go to grad school. You did everything you could to help. So you built and you cooked dinner and you did laundry.
It was always you who would indulge me. I want new earrings. I want new boots. I want to fly away to somewhere exotic. You never told me to be practical. You never said no.
Except when I told you I wanted solid wood doors in my yoga studio. You said no, they cost too much.
It was always you who showed up. Every Christmas concert. Every baseball game. Every birthday dinner. Not just for me, but you were there for my kids, even when you didn't have to be.
When I shattered dishes, you cleaned them up.
When I burned dinner, you told me you like it crispy.
When I left my socks on the floor, you grumbled a little, and picked them up.
When I got stuck in the snow, you came and shoveled me out.
When we went out for dinner, you let me eat off your plate.
It was always you.
Taking care of me.
Encouraging me.
Loving me.
My person.
