One day youll see that Ive gotten oldermy hands shake when I button my coat, I might drop a spoon at tea, or end up with a blot on my dress. Please dont get cross; be gentle with me.
Remember how I patiently taught you all this back when you couldnt even hold a spoon properly or dress yourself without a circus act? If I keep repeating the same story, dont cut me offjust lend an ear.
Do you recall begging for the same bedtime tale over and over, hugging me until you finally drifted off? And when I stubbornly refuse a bath, dont scold me; think of the wild pirate yarns I spun just to lure you into the tub.
If Im slow with the latest gadgeta smartphone that seems to have a mind of its own, or a TV that keeps asking for a software updatedont have a laugh at my expense. Give me a moment.
Remember how I taught you to write your first letters, how we counted apples and scribbled numbers together while I was barely keeping my own eyes open? If I forget a word or lose my train of thought, please be patient and dont get angry.
What matters to me isnt the exact phrasing, but that youre here, listening, not turning away. When my legs grow weak and I cant keep pace with you, dont think Ive become a burdenjust offer your hand, as I did when you took your first steps across the front garden of our little house in Kent.
One day youll realise that despite my mistakes, Ive always wanted only the best for you. Every step I took, every decision I made, was an attempt to smooth your path a bit more than mine.
Give me a slice of your time, a pinch of patience. Let me lean on your shoulder, just as you once hid behind mine when things seemed scary or painful.
I love you, my darling Emma. I love you, my dear Jack. And Ill keep praying for you botheven when youve stopped noticing.
