The lines on her face  had grown deeper over time. Her hands slightly curled and arms that used to hold me up high, tired and weak from age.  She was my rock, my port in life's storms.  

Quietly we faced each other.  Time was drawing short....we had so much to say but the words of such depth wouldn't come.  My eyes met hers, a mirror of her own, blue with flecks of gray. 

My love for her  had no measure.  She loved me, disciplined me, guided me, raised me up and yes, even brought me down when I needed it.  She saw her grandchildren become mothers and oh, what great mother's they were. 

We shared tea and laughs, talking on the phone and private jokes from a lifetime shared.  She knew when my heart ached, when I needed time to myself and when to intrude like only she could.

She silently slipped away from me.  I mourned and cried out.  Tears continuing their course down my cheeks....as life continues its course. 

I am tired. My children take my arm, supporting me in ways not only physical.  She is still with us.  The legacy, the memories...the beliefs she has instilled, the wryness of her humor evident in one daughter in particular. 

Grandchildren play at our feet, husbands murmur.  The women, we sit and quietly face each other...time is drawing short.  Let us recapture her again together, for just a little while......

Tags: life, death, mother's, friendship, family, struggling

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