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You grew up in a loving and nurturing home. Your mother was always there for you. She was there so much so, you never noticed the lack of a Mather or any siblings. She was there when you woke up, went to school, skinned your knee learning to ride and bike and skateboard, and for ever moment of your life worth remembering. Your friends were always jealous. They called your mom a MILF and came over as much to see you as to seeing your spring mom. You’re older now, an adult by the standards of the world. Yet she treats you as if you were still a child. Then it dawns on you on day. Your looking in the mirror, thinking about how much your body and life have changed. Your mom comes into the bathroom, to remind you to take out the trash, and you realize it. Your mom isn’t getting older. She is the same in almost every way. It can’t be, you think. That night you go through family photos, from your your through today. Sure enough, your mom’s clothing and hair style may have changed, but she hadn’t changed. She still look and acted like the mom of your childhood and formative years.