Cam found his flower the day after he picked it — wilted and folded in on itself — and he immediately fell apart. Listening back, I can hear myself filling the space when I should’ve just stayed quiet and let him feel his feelings. But I was really caught off guard. He was curled into a little ball on my lap, his face twisted with grief like this was the biggest pain he’d ever known. It was the saddest, sweetest thing.

“Mama, can you take a picture of our tree? It’s so beautiful.” Sure can, my love.

That’s just community shit.

I was just loving in my first language.