Introduced myself to mother again today.

She was confused, as one is when they meet their grown child for the “first” time.  But, her shaky, warm hands took mine as her wrinkles lifted into a petite smile.  She gaped up at the young girl she raised, tired, clouded eyes widening.  “You’ve gotten so big!” She kissed my hands and gripped my upper arm as we walked off to our table for lunch.  We did this every Sunday, and every sunday she would ask me how I was and how school was.  Every Sunday I told her I had graduated and had a job, she held me hand the whole time and squeezed it when she was proud, more smiles.  “That’s wonderful baby!”

As we talked more about the regular whining at work and what she used to do, she suddenly looked around, pulling that warm hand out of mine.  She did this every few minutes, she didn’t know where she was, or who I was.  Every time this happened, it hurt the same, pulled my heart apart just until it broke.  Every time, right before it broke, she smiled again and it was all better.  I introduced myself to mother again, maybe for the fifth time today.  Wrinkles pulled down by gravity and time would rise again on her cheeks when she beamed and told me to stand up for her.  “Oh my goodness, you’ve gotten so tall!”

After sitting and standing and sitting and standing and sitting and standing my thighs and I grew tired.  It was a near workout, but I’d do it for as long as I needed to to see my mother smile again.