Yet again you show how capable you are of showing love and affection. Your little of slips of the tongue. Your worries and your fears.  I watch how despite the smarting that the smoke from the food you cook gives you, you still cook everyday. I hear the tiredness in your voice, an exhaustion that you try so hard to hide when you get home. The way you hug and play with our dog as if he were a little child. The way you worry about our sisters when they get home late. Deep, deep, way deep beneath your grumpy exterior is a heart that still cares. I remember that day you gave me your jacket because you made me cry. And I pray for the day when that heart will cease to be buried by years of pretending that you are perfect. I long for the moment when you realize that feelings do not make a person weak. But until that day, I will be waiting. Because I love you.


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