She vents to me.
Her other half seems too busy to lend an ear or a shoulder so I’m her solider.
Her oldest daughter, middle child, spoiled to pieces but wouldn’t replace me for anything in the world.
She loves me. In return, I send love, my ears and my shoulder.
Seeing her cry hurts. The tearful streaks, hearing babbled words from being so choked up, tears me apart.
Still I stick through it. I’m suppose to.
As she vents in, I vent out.
Keep those closest to you near your heart at all times.