I like this picture. Someone sent it to me attached to something inspirational and I was immediately struck with the memory of my mother. Of being a child and just sitting and talking to my mother. Having that wonderful time to enjoy her. I remember her coming home from work, she had to have been dead tired, and asking me, a child, how was my day. And having the patience to sit and listen to my childish prattlings that jumped from subject to subject and back again. And she actually LISTENED! In them she got to know me. To know when I was lying and truthing. To know when it was time to go to school because my 1st grade teacher told our class that she didn't care if we came to school or not. To know who was picking on me and how I should deal with them. Teaching me how to handle with conflict so that I would not be under so much pressure that I would rather harm my classmates then learn how to have the last best laugh at those who would laugh at me.
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