Saturday night I stayed up until 6am talking to my mom. I really needed that. I think she's the only one that lets me talk and talk and talk, saying the same things I've said a dozen times (just because I like to say them so well), and not get tired of listening to me. And I tell her everything I'm worried about, and she makes it all seem better. And I tell her about all my insecurities and she tells me I'm beautiful. And I tell her again how much I worry and she tells me again that it will all be okay. And the hours tick by and she does not look at the clock and she does not turn the TV on. No, she sits there with me and tells me everything she knows about the current subject and listens attentively as I take my turn.
I love that woman.