Pensive partakings

As I lay ruminating on days past, and on moments yet to be I find myself...adrift.
your face is in sharp detail, remastered with each recollection; midnight skin, eyes of dark chocolate, open and inviting, and hair...so much hair, coiffed and flawless or in sweat soaked clumps, shading an eternally patient, slightly dimpled grin. I remember so much of you that you have become almost mythic canon. no one can compare to you; and I would want no one to. I lay here and remember my paler self in infancy, how it must have been answering me when the questions were ridiculous, then totally impossible. I wish I could recall how you answered why I looked like daddy and you were not the same colour; or even what it was like when you came home from your last Carnival before you retired your youth to be our 'mommy'.
I remember well your fear, I shared in it, and was dimly aware I was a cause for some of it (I was quiet and bookish, lulling you into a false security I shattered when I'd go missing and reappear on top of some precarious vantage point). it is like recalling sepia memories through my eyes where you stand in luminous technicolor. I am told you are always watching and would be proud. I need the latter more than platitudes of your lingering presence. your approval and love are sustaining concepts for me on many days; often its all I can do to buoy myself with it. I fall short of my own affection almost daily, it is comforting to know your love proves to stem from one of the very few unwavering sources in my life.
For My Mother; though I have inherited your blood, may I prove to have gleaned some of your strength.