You Are Their First Home

You are their first home. Your breath is theirs. Your food is theirs. Your body is the sanctuary in which they grow, protected, until they can live in the world.

From the moment they enter this world, arms and feet flailing against the cold brutish air, you are the home of security. Your chest is their first bed, your arms their transportation, your voice their solace. When they can no longer climb into your lap, they will find comfort in the sight of your face across the table, the space you give them to talk without judgment, and your unconditional love.

You are the home of their treasures. Your pockets hold sticks and rocks found at the playground. Your refrigerator doors display their artwork and awards. Your videos store moments of glory on stage, on the field, at a podium. Your heart catalogues all the things they will forget.

You are the home of secrets whispered in the dark, trusted with the most intimate thoughts in their minds.

You are the home of answers. Small questions like “where are my shoes?” and “can I have a snack?” eventually make way for bigger questions about life and death and sex and love. And if you answer them fully and honestly – if you trust in their power to grasp the truth and the consequences of that knowledge – they will always come to you first.

You are the home of tradition. The keeper of memories, the hider of eggs, the wrapper of presents, the baker of birthday cakes, the stasher of money under the pillow in exchange for a tooth, the thrower of balls in the backyard, the picker of pumpkins.

You are the home of comfort. Skinned knees made better with a kiss. Chubby legs curled up in your lap. The smell of dinner wafting through the house. A hand on their back rising and falling with their breath until they fall asleep.

One day they will move from the confines of your four walls. But you will always be their touchstone, their resource, their comfort.

You will always be home. Because you loved them hard. Even when it was hard.
#LoveHard
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