What makes me care ....
It's not the perfect image of a mother that would make me care for her, it's not the gifts, toys, clothes or education etc. that she could have given me that would make me tender towards her. It's the humanity in her, it's the soul in her, that would show me and share with me, her moments of struggle, feelings of loss, of sadness or despair, her need to forget, her thoughts of regret - and combined with her smile and the wrinkles around her eyes, that would carve it's way through invisible paths of walking alone looking for a hand, waiting, longing to be met with that deep recognition of a mother