Walking With Mom
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
I remember as a child,
Mom held my hand to help me down the stairs;
she held my hand to steady me as we walked across the yard;
she held my hand and walked slowly so that I could keep up;
she held my hand as we neared the street to keep me safe;
she held my hand to hold me close to her to protect me.
Today Mom walked to the mail box with me, and
I held her hand to help her down the steps;
I held her hand to steady her as we walked across the yard;
I held her hand and walked slowly so that she could keep up;
I held her hand to keep her close to me to protect her.
I know the role reversal is necessary, and it is probably the natural progression of our ages, but I still struggle with it. And today my heart is heavy with the broken-ness of it. Mom was always the constant in my life - always there, always ready to help, always ready to listen, always offering objective advice, always the stabilizing force for me no matter what was going on in my life - Mom and her love was the constant I could depend on. And for some reason today the child in me so misses my Momma.