my mother’s hand…
so beautifully and instinctively looks for the blooms; the beauty; the heart of another.
as I snapped the photo of the flowers at the market, she was walking and speaking, “look at the beauty”.
I do see the beauty momma! Yes, the flowers are breathtaking, but more than anything, I marvel at your hand in reach, your heart always in motion, your soul aflame with color!
the same hand that soothes, cooks, nurtures and caresses, in one split second becomes goddess-like and leads the way in my world.
I so love you, momma!
We were each other’s world, you and I. My newly christened mom-hands and your chubby baby face and inquisitive eyes made the perfect combination as we tackled the world together. And as your world grew, so did mine. I ventured to places quite unknown and relish every time you brought me along and let me learn right beside you. You grew and soared just as you were supposed to, and I wouldn’t want it any other way, you being strong and independent, but so kind and giving. That’s just what I had hoped for your beautiful life. There’s only a few feet’s difference now between where we started and where you are, but what a difference a few feet can make. From crawling on the ground, then toddling along holding my hand, all the way to lofty heights, where your heart and mind lives now…what a big difference. So much represented in that inching along, leg pains, heart pains and all. I know you need to be exactly where you are, and I imagine on certain days, you peek toward the earth to see that the foundation still stands and there you will see me smiling and cheering you on…still. Proud as I could ever be, to be your mom.