Mother

These are my mom’s hands…

Just look at the burden of my childhood and youth they have withstood.

Why only at the age you begin to understand how much work and effort is invested in us. How much pain we cause by our actions, how many tears and worries the mother’s heart gets.

After all, every one of our broken knees or a deuce at school is a new wrinkle on mom’s face and calluses appearing from year to year on her delicate hands.

Mom, I’ve grown up enough, but I still need you. And I know that time will take its toll anyway, but you know Mom….it’s scary to imagine this world without you…

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