Sometimes it is hard to find the words, but this poem goes some way to explaining my thoughts: A mother is more than a memory. She is a living presence. Your mother is always with you. She is the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street, she is the smell of certain foods you remember, perfumes that she wore, she is the cool hand on your brow when you are not feeling well, she is the breath in the air on a cold winter’s day. She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep; the colours of the rainbow, she is Christmas morning. Your mother lives inside your laughter, and she is crystallised in every tear drop. A mother shows every emotion… happiness, sadness, fear, love, excitement, joy, sorrow… and all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the good feelings in life. She is the place you come from, your first home, and she is the map you follow with every step you take. She is your first love, your first friend, and nothing on earth can separate you, not time, not space, not even death. (Author unknown)