With the simple touch of my mother’s hand, did I get so emotional at Homily. I’m still unsure as to why I shed such tears. I think of it now, and I wonder maybe, was it distance? Was I just tired? Because I couldn’t conclude to any real reason. I tried to analyze whether I was upset or angry…but nothing of this day could have possibly made me so. At least, I dont think? I dont know what’s wrong with me honestly. Then I saw my mom gesture to my dad that his daughter was crying, he pulled out his signature handkerchief that I grew up with, with that familiar smell and familiar fold that was always saved in his pocket, as if it were his cape, as if a superhero, to save his little girl, to wipe her tears per-say.