There were times when I was a kid that my mom did really fun things like pull out her old roller skates and skate down our street while we watched– sometimes we’d roll our eyes pretending to be embarrassed when really inside we wished we were kids when she was a kid because it would have been really fun.  I love my mother.  I love my mother differently than I did at 10am on October 8, 2011. At 10 am on October 8, 2011 I loved my mother with the entirety of my being. She’s my best friend and a woman with one hell of a lot of integrity. She is strong and hilarious. She is intelligent and truly amazing. At 1pm on October 8, 2011 she became a mother that lost her youngest born… my baby brother. From that time forward, the love I have for my mother has exponentially grown in ways that words would do no justice to. She gets up every day. SHE GETS UP EVERY DAY. She gets up every day to face the silence of the phone.  She gets up every day knowing he will not come by. She gets up every day with three children on earth. The love for my mother is different now. It’s deeper…it’s bigger in a very unquantifiable way. I think of her… and I cry. I think of her and I know she is living through something I don’t think I could. If I was in fifth grade again and had to write a homework assignment on who my hero was it would be her one hundred times over.

Kids are on vacation from school in CT this week. Nitza was home yesterday. Ale was bouncing off the walls. He is six and he has energy. He is also incredibly smart and talks all. day.long.  At about 430pm yesterday I told him to put on his shoes and we’d take his Christmas Razor scooter out for a spin. He scootered around our circle for a mile or so squealing with delight. He then wanted to take a break to play soccer. He grabbed the soccer ball from the garage and we passed it back and forth until darkness settled on us. It was cold. I was throwing up yesterday. I wasn’t entirely thrilled at the prospect of going outside… and then I paused. I will do it because she can’t. My mother would give anything to look at my brother across the dinner table laughing about some crazy thing going on in his world and right here at my fingertips I have Alejandro.. cuddling, laughing, scootering, playing.

I love my family. I love my boy. I love playing with my boy. In those moments where my body pains and my soul is tired and the soccer ball feels too heavy to kick I will go out and play because she can’t.