Love
To my son...
Love is the pressure between our hands as I hold yours while crossing the street.
Love is me catching you as you fall off a rock you were climbing.
Love is you walking just a little too far ahead.
I love you "too much."
To my son...
Love is the pressure between our hands as I hold yours while crossing the street.
Love is me catching you as you fall off a rock you were climbing.
Love is you walking just a little too far ahead.
I love you "too much."