your song.

My mother is a real life angel. The purest woman i've ever known.

Her grace and elegance is something i can only dream of, and her courage and strength gives me chills. She is my very best friend. She is my other half. She is my guardian and my savior and the only person i truly believe in. Her words of artistry can bring anyone to tears. Her brilliance is portrayed in everything she does. In acting, in directing, in parenting, in loving, in dreaming, in speaking. Her life is what i base mine upon. Her struggles and battles inspire me to share her stories. My stories. Our stories. Her delicacy and fragility combine into this mess of beauty that i admire so deeply. She craves answers to things that God has stolen from her. That God has stripped her of. I crave answers for her. I will be her answer. I will carry her with me in every daily breath i take. I simply cannot live without her. A perfect day to me is sitting on a porch with her, cocktail and cigarette in hand, just being. Laughing. Recalling past moments where i have been so stupid. Where she has picked me up off the ground with her small bare hands that resemble mine identically. Where she has put her life on hold, for me. God bless a love that strong. That true. A day without hearing her voice brings me anxiety. I am her. She is me. We are us. I'd live her daily pain if i could. I'd take back the tears she's cried, the fear she's felt, the rock bottom she's hit. I'd put it all on me in exchange for peace and happiness in her heart. The pride i see in her eyes, the passion in her words when she speaks of me, the love she shows when she wipes my tears. I've never known a love like that. I just know that i have learned everything from her. Every thought, every belief, every hope that i stubbornly cling to is all thanks to her. Her god given talent that she has passed down to me, i could never thank anybody enough as her. The ability she has planted in my veins astounds me with every discovery i make about myself. the soul that i have is hers. and hers is mine. I always wonder if people see her brilliance the way i do. I know my father doesn't and i hate him for belittling her. Or maybe he does and just hates himself for letting her go and fucking things up. The man who loves my mother is the luckiest bastard in the world. Her one true love was stolen from her three years ago and her heart will never mend. No matter how hard i try to heal her, it's unbearable. My stepfather's death has turned my world upside down. Brought me to the highest of highs and fuck knows the lowest of lows. But he wasn't my lover. He wasn't my best friend. He didn't leave my mom with a 17 month old son, his only biological child. That's just wrong.

I'll never forget the day she called me and told me that her and jake were standing outside, looking at the stars. Jake asked, "is daddy up there?" She said, "yes." He said, "i can hear him singing up there."

God knows i will die knowing that that four year old statement is the absolute truth.

He is singing.

He's singing for my mother, as he always did.

I can hear it too.