If life were to offer me another chance
to nurture my children all over again,
I would not look for any different way,
nor wish away even a single day.
I would welcome the tiny footprints once more,
the laughter spilling through colorful rooms,
the endless questions, the sleepless nights,
the small hands reaching for mine.
I would pause for each story,
however many times it was told.
I would celebrate the ordinary days,
Completely knowing they were never ordinary at all.
I would watch with wonder as they grew,
not measuring time by years,
but by the quiet moments
that became, without warning, memories.
I would cheer their smallest victories,
make them kick away their disappointments,
and trust them enough to open my hands
when the time came to let them fly.
I would once again choose hugs over hurry,
presence over perfection,
connection over correction,
and love, always, above all else.
I would tell them once again
that being truthful is strength,
that courage and fear often walk together,
and that their worth was never something to earn.
I would marvel at the people they became,
each carrying their own light,
their own dreams,
their own way of being in this world.
And now, standing on the other side of those years,
I look back with a full heart.
Not because everything was perfect,
but because it was real.
Every challenge held a lesson.
Every season held a blessing.
The laughter remains.
The love remains.
The memories remain.
And each passing year only deepens
my gratitude for the privilege
of having been their mother.
So if life, in its quiet kindness,
were to place that choice before me again,
I would choose the same children,
the same journey,
the same lessons,
the same love.
And with a heart that has known it all
and chosen it anyway,
I would do it all over again.
Simi
Simi says... 