You could do no wrong in her eyes,
so I thought.
Maybe you thought the same way about me.
There was no competition of who was the better.
You were always the first born, the son.
Me, the daughter who lived.
We were her children.
She wanted for us to care for each other
to look after each other
without asking, without having to try.
Where ever you are,
may you be living in joy and love.
Sharing with Friday Writings, hosted by Poets and Storytellers United.