When I look at my hands, I see Sally Ann's
Wrinkled like the young bark of a tree
Strong, determined
My mother's wedding ring is the one I wear
An homage to 40 years my parents laughed in love
And lived in pain
I see her hands every day but I brush off
The thoughts they evoke
No time to grieve
No need
It's been 15 years
But here it is again - Mother's Day
I take a purposeful moment and look at my hands
and remember hers
I remember the meals of fried everything she cooked
Lard is an official food group in Texas
I remember the clothes she sewed for me
The gentle hugs she gave me
The way she touched my face when she gave me a line
Of advice she would recite over and over
"You keep your chin up, Robbie."
I remember her last breath
I was holding her hand
Wrinkled like a young tree's bark
Still strong
Still determined
Even though her body was weak
I remember
It's that time of year
Tears of grief are good
I look at my guys - my husband and son
She never met them
But she knows them
Sometimes when I hold Noah's hand, I look down
And I see her hand holding her grandson's
She would've loved my guys
She does love them
Whenever I hear someone complain about their mother
I put on a sympathetic face
Relationships ARE difficult
But inside I cringe
Just for a moment
Don't they know the gift they have?
To be able to hold their mother's hand?
So I will grieve just a little while
And then I will celebrate Mother's Day
I will squeeze my son's hand extra hard
And hope that someday he remembers me
And my hands
