This bridge crosses the Ohio river. My mom remembers crossing that river when she was a migrant farm worker. Last week, I walked across it because I was there for a work trip with one of the best media companies in the country.
Her hands have toiled and worked tirelessly so that I could be a journalist. So I could do what I love, get paid a fair salary, get a college degree and have health care – all things she didn't have. And one day, I hope I'll make enough money so she doesn't have to work and she can visit me in Colorado or go with me on work trips.
A parent is to a child what the sun is to a flower. It would do well for people to remember this. To remember that separating the two is a disservice to both. To do this, is to destroy a natural and loving relationship that begets beauty.