Nana’s voice was soft, the melody drifting gently into the night air, like a familiar, comforting breeze. Her foot pushed the hammock back and forth with a slow, rhythmic motion, meant to put you at ease. She held you close, arms wrapped securely around you, providing a warmth that felt endless. The hammock, woven in tans and faded reds, swayed; It was gentle cradle that seemed to carry the weight of all the years she dedicated to raise you up. And above you, the sky stretched into an epic sea of stars twinkling like scattered diamonds.

"I will hold you in my arms, and keep you safe til the sun is up..." The words were as familiar as your own breath, a song she had sung to you since the day you were born. It was more than a lullaby; it was a promise. Through the years, the song had been a thread between you both—woven into every hug, every moment, every rise of the sun. It had been her way of telling you that no matter what the world threw your way, she would be there, watching, loving and protecting you. As your mother, it had always been her duty to keep you safe, to hold you close when the world felt too big or too frightening. And now, with the weight of that same love; She must let you go.