My mom has always looked and acted much younger than she is. In fact, it is unbelievably easy to forget that she is seventy-six. Her attitude and heart are clearly still somewhere in their thirties…maybe forties...and she looks at least twenty years younger than her chronological age. I took this photo a year ago, on Mother’s Day. After our celebrations were over and I was home looking at all the photos on my computer, this photo of her hand reminded me, she is in her seventies. I am so lucky that I have my mom. I don’t know what I would do without her.
There were other memories that came flooding back when I saw this photo. I used to sit on my mother’s lap and play with her hands. Specifically, I would hold a finger from each of her hands and click the fingernails together. I don’t know why I did this, I just remember that I felt safe in her arms, and somehow doing this was comforting. I always wanted to grow up and have long nails like my mother (I don’t, by the way). I also remember that her hands and fingers seemed so big compared to mine. This memory must be from when I was quite small because her hands are tiny compared to mine now! I think it’s interesting that something that seems so minor, clicking my mother’s fingernails together, is really such an important memory; and that this photo strikes such an emotional chord in me.
|matching socks -- from just a few weeks ago!|
|at the fair last summer|
|at grandma's last summer|