I do not own Star Trek.

"I bet you never even loved her!"

Why did these words still ring in his ears as he meditated, months after they had been said? He knew it was done to provoke, but was it possible that James Kirk had a point? He had loved his mother, though he had never shown it; even when his father wasn't around. Part of loving someone is showing it, Spock knew that.

But that was in the past. It could not be changed, and it was pointless to lament it.

Spock opened his brown eyes at the chime of his communicator."Officer Spock, protocol reminded the U.S.S. Enterprise is due for takeoff in twenty four hours," Captain Kirk announced.

"Thank you, Captain," Spock replied. He closed his communicator and stood. Instead of the usual calm feeling he possessed after meditation, an overwhelming whirlpool of emotion lurked inside him. Grief for his mother and planet; regret for his love, Nyota, who had left him.

I'm in control of my emotions; he breathed, and then repeated to himself. Once he had gained substantial control of his feelings, he set about packing his few possessions. Some clothes, an assortment of PADDS...and a package from his mother, tucked far in a drawer, unopened.

How could he have forgotten to open it? Granted, his mother had sent him many packages during his time at the academy. This particular one dated back to his early academy days, back when he had a rather careless roommate. Chances are his acquaintance cast it aside and forgotten it.

Spock knew he would not have forgotten it. In his mother's scrawling handwriting were the words:

I wanted you to have these, when you were old enough.

With calm, steady fingers Spock carefully unwrapped the package. Inside was a small stack of PADDS, tied together with a navy blue ribbon. He took the first PADD from the stack. It was his mother's journal, started on the day of his birth.

He's beautiful, and looks just like his Father. His eyes first opened a few minutes ago. I could have sworn he smiled at me.

Spock quickly read the next few entries. They were accounts of her relationship with her husband and son, and Spock's achievements throughout his childhood. One PADD spanned through Spock's entire life; Amanda's struggle to establish a strong relationship with him, her homesickness for Earth. The second PADD was the journal she kept through her childhood, normal events from her school days; all her feelings, good and bad, plain as day on the screen. The more he read, the closer he felt to his Mother.

The third PADD was all creative spirit; sketches, short stories, and a few poems. The final poem was addressed to Spock, written a few years before her untimely death.

Spock,

You're my child of three,

But there's more of your Father in you than me,

And I know how proud I'm going to be.

Spock,

You're my child of ten,

Your growing never seems to end,

You're going to be one of the greatest men.

Spock,

You're my child of twenty,

You've made me feel a lot,

Though I've felt plenty.

But I couldn't be happier,

You found your own path,

I miss you,

But still,

I'm proud of that.

Not very well written, yet heartfelt, Spock critiqued. But he knew his mother had not sent it to him for review. Her poem, titled My Son, could not mean more to him.

He had always followed his father's culture, his culture. He had neglected his Mother's culture all his life; seeing Earth beings and their ways illogical and unnecessary.

But surely he had a way to honor his Mother, too always remember her; by letting his feelings poor out onto a PADD, in a way he knew she would approve of: poetry.

Well, that's the first chapter. I write all the poems in this story, along with the story. Please review!