女兒生孩子前幾天寫的

When I was little, my mother would paint the most beautiful landscapes onto our bedroom walls. Lush jungles of animals and nature, with corresponding names in English and Chinese. I remember one huge glass living room window in Singapore, where she spent weeks creating these beautiful wall stickers. A gorgeous spread of red flowers and green leaves, and, of course, their labelled names. Matter of fact, she labelled everything! Little cue cards covered the house - cupboard, table, chair, bed, mirror, sink, you name it, she labelled it.
I was having conversations with adults by one and reading not long after. And it took me nearly twenty-four years to really, sincerely thank her. My mother and father both — they were such. great. parents — and I never even realized. They devoted so much time to our growth and education and made sure our minds and souls were fed.
We were hungry little beings, always curious and wondering, and they always took the time to answer our 'whys'. Even in my teens, when I would walk in the woods with my father, I would still ask him questions and he would still answer thoughtfully. If he didn't know the answer, he would think hard about it, and come back to me with a possible explanation. He would listen to me, no matter how much I talked, as if I said the most interesting things on the planet. My parents never shushed us or acted too busy for us - we were their number one priority.
This morning we had Sunday brunch with Bear's parents, whom I also adore so deeply. I can't help but feel this explosion of gratitude for the ones who raised my man so sweetly. They shared stories of when he was a mischievous little one (nothing's changed) but also loyal and strong and heart-warming. And I'm already looking forward to the day when our babies call in their own precious families.
Family. It's a word that I know is triggering for some and so undervalued in our current culture. Yet this gift is priceless, the lessons we pass on, if we love and respect each other. My parents were not perfect, by any means, but they taught us to care for each other. And this is what I held on to, in my years of lonely roaming — the faith that I would, one day, have a Family. Where Laughter rang loud. Where Happiness was possible. Where little feet would pitter and patter around...
Family. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm thankful for these people. The ones who raised us so very well and placed us on solid ground. This morning I sketched out a little educational card for Baby with our family tree. And I realized it's exactly the kind of thing my mother once did for me. So much of me is who I am because of the devotion and guidance of my parents. And I'm only just starting to comprehend the love that they have for me.
Now I'm sitting here crying because I'm almost forty weeks pregnant and hormones and parents and everything. A few years ago I didn't even talk to my parents and now they'll soon be visiting. And I'm so grateful to my Baby for helping me to understand how much Love was always here with me.
I've always been Loved. 
I've always been Love. 
And that will never leave me