My son made tea and got it almost right and I loved him for trying

Dear Delyara, He brought it to me while I was sitting there looking like the week had won, and he was so careful carrying it that I nearly cried before I even took the first sip. It wasn’t the tea. It was the being thought of without asking. I think that’s what gets me now. The small acts. The ones that show some of the care has come back through the children in little forms. Not grand gratitude. Just attention. Consideration. Softness. That kind of thing reaches me very deeply these days. Maybe because I need it very deeply.