For My Mom

While riding back to Guatemala City with my parents my eyes were drawn to my mother's hands. Ever since I was a little girl I have loved my mother's hands. She has the kind of skin that is soft, and her hands are lovely.

Today is her 75th birthday and how I wish that I had had my camera to take a photo of her hands.

You must understand that when I look at Mom's hands I see many things: her hands washing me when I was young, washing dishes, folding clothes, buttoning my blouse, zipping my zipper, mashing potatoes, stirring cake batter, rolling out pie dough, combing my hair, brushing my teeth, touching my cheek, helping me hold my first pencil, holding the book that she was reading to me, touching my father's face, holding my hand as I crossed the street, swatting me on the bottom if I needed it, straightening my wedding veil on my wedding day, sewing my confirmation dress, decorating the Christmas tree, driving the car, and the list goes on.

So Mom if you are reading this know that you are the best and loved much and your hands will always hold mine.