Shirley Fishel
This is a borrowed poem I read, but it fits so well, I wanted to share...
Memories of my Mom and I, live in my heart so clearly,
She means the world and all to me, I love her dearly.
And when I travel back in time, I see her sitting there,
Her open arms, her smiling face, framed by her dark brown hair.
My tiny self climbs up and snuggles her so tight,
I love her squishy softness, I love her eyes so bright.
But most of all her hands I see, much bigger they were than mine,
with interesting marks and spots and veins that roam and vine and twine.
Oh the work and strife and toil that pair of hands went through,
the joy, the bliss, the love they'd known, hands so strong and true.
My little hands, so different, but as the years have flown,
I see my Mommy's hands again, when I look down upon my own.
I love and miss you Mommy...xoxo Shirley
