These are the hands that raised me.
These hands are filled with compassion, wisdom and patience, but they also carry the burdens of pain, sorrow and illness. They’ve looked different over the years, sometimes delicate and tender, and other times stubborn and demanding. This was how they looked days before they finally found peace.
These hands took on the incredible task of turning a child into an adult. For years, they loved me, taught me, molded me, and in times when I wasn’t looking, reached out for me. They’ve shown me the value of love and the cost of pride—lessons that I’ll carry with me for the rest of my life.
These hands lifted me up when I was down, and when I was up, pushed me to new heights. I’ve known these hands my entire life, but in their final days, it also became clear I’ll never know all they’ve been through.
These are the hands that raised me.
I love you mama.