I like feeling my parents’ different hugs. Both so intense yet different, distinct.
Remembering, reliving the feelings of their four arms around me is so odd because It’s
so real and so secure.

I come from my mom who spreads friendliness, smiles, and compassion. She puts time into caring
and into the details of caring like leaving a new CD I’ve been mentioning on my pillow
or playing one on the way home from Smith. She wants me to utilize all of my skills, especially
my creativity. She listens a lot and helps deeply. Our casual phone chats leave me smiling
and our deeper conversations which can feel more important fill me up and help me feel explained.
I like her version of my life.

I come from my dad who takes time to reflect, doesn’t care what anybody else thinks,
and will talk to me as long as I need to whenever I want to. 5am, 2am in the midst of a chaotic
work day. He lets me know I’m important and special to him in that way and verbally.
He doesn’t want money to rule my life but passion yet hopes for stability and security.
I like that he thinks love can help to make me happy.

From these people, the home they helped to create for me, I flew away with a nest to return