There is a tightrope we walk called life
You put me on it when you gave birth to me
For a long time you carried me, then you held
my hand, and then you told me you believed in me.
You never hovered so close that you overpowered me and caused me to fall
But the presence of your hand was always there
You balance me.
I love you,
the last stanza of a Mother's Day Poem written one year before her death