when i come to my last thought i start to feel light until i realize the heaviness of it , i think of my mother , how kind and gentle she was with me , all the teachers she had to meet with and all the schools she moved me to while insisting i was not the problem , that my teachers or the other students just didnt understand me she knew all along and yet she never seemed to resent me , i think about the way she would play with my hair and let me draw on her notebooks at church , the way she would take days off of work to take me out of school to have a girls day from time to time , we would usually get manicures and pedicures and then she would suffer through the bookstore with me , so long as she had a coffee in hand she would spend hours looking with me and feigning interest in all of the books i loved and the many series i would get drawn into .