Two mothers: one asleep, one awake.
Each bore children.
Each has seen their children cry.
Each cooks well.
Both have attended their kids’ ball games.
Both like flowers and coffee.
Each has lain awake at night waiting for their kids to arrive home.
Both have fed me.
Both have kissed me.
Both have held me.
Both have believed in me.
Both have taught me.
Both have done my laundry.
Both have expanded by horizons.
Both have shown me the world.
Both love people, and parties, and life.
But now one sleeps lightly from exhaustion, and the other is exhausted yet awake.
One sleeps because husband is up with the kids, the other awake because her husband is up short of breath.
Both are strong.
Both are beautiful.
Both are miraculous, indeed.
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