Thanks, my friend, for finding this:

My friend found the rest of this monologue about mother:


Your mother is always with you.
She's the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street.
She's the smell of certain foods you remember, the flowers
you buy and the perfume that she wore.
She's the cool hand on your brow when you're not feeling well,
she's your breath in the air on a cold winter's day.
She's the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep,
the colours of a rainbow, she is Christmas morning.
Your mother lives inside your laughter. . . she is crystallized
in every tear drop.
A mother shows every emotion . . . happiness, love, hate, anger,
helplessness, excitement, joy and sorrow.
And all the while, hoping and praying you will only know the
good things in life.
She's the place you came from, your first home and she's the map
you follow with every you step you take.
She's your first love, your first friend,
and even your first enemy,
but nothing on earth can separate you.
Not time, not space and not even death.