Years ago, my mother was in a hospital bed praying to St. Jude, the Patron Saint of Hopeless Cases. Beginning my life as a "hopeless case" may conjure up some magnificent images giving one a long-standing inferior complex. However, the first few months of my life (spent mostly in the hospital) and through my adult years, I was surrounded by the unconditional love of my dear mother and father. I believe love saved me.
Now my world of love has expanded. It's the little things like a First Grader skipping down the hall and saying, "Happy Birthday!" And it is the unexpected. Slipping into the car to de-ice the windows this morning, my eyes fell upon this. A sentiment from my youngest; a card filled with that unconditional love and a cupcake. No, I am not perfect. I am loved. A perfect simple love. I am grateful.