… Not because I was awful to her, or delivered horrible news. Not because I asked her to cry, or wished that she would.

I made my mother cry today. Because I cried and then she cried too.

I imagined my father, standing in the nook between their bedroom and the study, perhaps with his arms crossed or his hands in fists. I imagined him thinking about the 4 hour distance between us and how to make it shorter if he needed to. I imagined him softening – looking at my mother, whom he has loved for over 30 years.

I made my mother cry today, because there is a bond between a mother and a daughter that is impossible to explain. It’s the reason why I call her when I find a pair of jeans on sale. It’s the reason why I leave messages at home with just a whistle or a “huh.”

It’s the reason why I call home every single day just to hear her voice.  Just to know what they’ve been up to: “your father and I went to Mexican tonight!” Or what she’s trying to avoid: “I told your father that if we eat Chinese food one more time we’re going to turn into lo mein!”

But most importantly, I made my mother cry today because she can feel my pain and though she shields me from hers, I can feel it (and my father’s) too.

I made my mother cry today. And for me, it’s the one thing I cannot fathom and will always cherish: the unconditional love between a mother, and a daughter… and a father, who stands nearby, waiting to help and trying to figure out how he can ease the struggle. It’s the love I hope to find, and the love I want to share.

I made my mother cry today. Because I cried and then she cried too.

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for mommy and daddy, xo.