She was with me through hell.
When I asked her if I was too damaged to volunteer she didn’t hesitate to set me straight. In fact she almost scoffed at what I now see as the absurdity of my question.
I share today’s musings. As a former English professor at A&M, I often share my thoughts with her.
“Ohhhh.
That is so very…
Lovely and…
Happy and…
Splendid.
Thank you for sharing. You are the best for sharing that with me.”
But really, I feel woefully inadequate and childlike when the master compliments my work. Sheepishly I respond, “Welp, because you inspire me.”
Her next words make me smile:
“Girl.
As I tell my terrific son who does not accept accolades well…
A simple thank you will do. One must allow others to be grateful.”
I don’t deserve all this goodness.
I’m not crying.
Write a comment