November 8, 2015
My mother said the imperfections are qualities you learn to love most. They become the ones you seek out first. The dorky way your daughter dances, the short temper of your son, the absent-mindedness of your husband. When they act different, you find yourself hoping they would revert to being the familiar person your heart has come to know. They shouldn't even be called imperfections, she said, they should have another name. She asked me for this other name and I couldn't come up with one. So I just hugged her awkwardly. "This is a perfect hug," she said.