I’m not dissing Christ here by any means. I’m not.

I just think The Mama’s should get the majority of the credit on this one. Because, let me tell you, People. My Maman is the one who gives me strength and makes me feel like I can do all things.

That’s what Mama’s do, right? I mean, theorteically speaking if all goes as planned. And even Mama’s who maybe seem a little less than stellar, I truly believe, they’re just trying to do the best they can with where they’re at.

No one struggles in anything without dealing with some sort of suffering. We all suffer, but, there are some of us who suffer more than others. I know. I’ve been around those types. I’ve read books by them. I get it.

Maybe some of us are just naturally a little more bruised up, more easily scarred than others of us.

Maman arrived today. All seems right again in my world. When five minutes leading up to her arrival, it wasn’t. There is nothing that doesn’t seem easier, more possible and more positive when I’ve got my mama with me.

In high school, my friends called me co-dependent. No one knew how I’d make it four long hours away from home at Virginia Tech when I couldn’t stand to be away from her for 24 hours at a sleepover {at age 17}.

They said this like it was a bad thing. Like I shouldn’t need her. I never understood that. I’d always say, but girls, don’t we need our mothers? WHY wouldn’t I need her?!

They’d shake their heads and laugh at me. I’ll take co-dependent any day of the week if it means Maman gets to be with me.