Growing up, the tender moments of affection from my mother have been etched into my heart, and one of the most vivid memories is the warmth of her kisses. They were not just simple gestures of love but also a language of comfort, encouragement, and guidance that has shaped my character and outlook on life.

As a child, I was prone to colds and fevers, and during those times, my mothers kisses were my solace. She would gently press her lips to my forehead, a soft touch that seemed to carry the power to alleviate my discomfort. The sensation of her kiss was accompanied by the faint scent of her skin, a fragrance that was uniquely hers and which I have come to associate with safety and care. It was as if her love was seeping into my very being, offering a balm to my ailing body and soul.

One particular incident stands out in my memory. I had been struggling with a particularly challenging math problem, and the frustration was evident in my furrowed brows and clenched fists. My mother, noticing my distress, approached me with a gentle smile. She sat beside me, and without a word, placed a kiss on the top of my head. It was a simple act, yet it was as if a wave of calm washed over me. The kiss was a silent message, a reassurance that it was okay to be challenged and that she was there for me. It was a moment of connection that transcended words, a moment that I would carry with me through my academic journey.

As I grew older, the kisses became less frequent but no less significant. When I achieved a milestone or overcame a hurdle, my mother would celebrate with a kiss on the cheek. It was a mark of pride and joy, a