January 11, 2009

Page 43

Whenever I went out to play, my mother wanted to know exactly where I was going to be.

When I'd come in, she'd call me into her bedroom, take me in her arms, and cover me with kisses.  She'd stroke my hair and say, "I love you so much," and when I sneezed she'd say, "Bless you, you know how much I love you, don't you?" and when I got up for a tissue she'd say, "Let me get it for you I love you so much," and when I looked for a pen to do my homework she'd say, "Use mine, anything for you," and when I had an itch on my leg she'd say, "Is this the spot, let me hug you," and when I said I was going up to my room she'd call after me, "What can I do for you I love you so much," and I always wanted to say, but never said: Love me less.

- The History of Love, Nicole Krauss

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