Dear Mom,

Take notes.

When the next one comes, act not as you did with me. Feed them enough.  Burp them enough. Bathe them enough. Dry them off enough. Love them enough. When the next one comes, speak not as you did with me. Tell them “it’s okay”. Tell them “it’s not your fault”. Tell them “I hear you”. Tell them “I see you”. Tell them “I love you”. When the next one comes, love not as you did with me. Kiss them. Hug them. Cuddle with them. Cry with them. Squeeze them tightly when Dad has a bad day at work. And when the next one comes, protect them. Do not stand idly by as they bear the force of a semi-truck on the bathroom floor. Do not turn a blind eye to their scars and bruises. Do not leave them to bleed and then expect them to love you. Mom, they will not love you. They will ask why you let it happen to them. They will ask where you were, and they will never forget that you simply were not there. So mom, when the next one comes, please promise me you’ll be there.