Love Letter 1: My Mother’s Hands

Welcome to day 1 of A Year of Love Letters.

I’m delighted you’re here…and along for this new adventure with me! I’ll be honest…I’m a little bit nervous about this. It’s a big commitment…and I also know I only have to write one letter at a time. Phew!

As I enter this new year, and this new intention I set to be love in everything, I am awake in the early morning hours. My mother is very much on my mind. While our relationship was often challenging and painful, I have come to see that love is truly all there is. 

I wrote this love letter to honor her, and I share it with you now. May it help you find peace and love in the challenges of your life. 

My Mother’s Hands 

My mother’s hands have always been long and slender, but now they are thin, boney, and nearly transparent. Hands that once changed my diaper, held my hand to steady me as I learned to walk, feed myself, tie a shoe, button a coat, ride a bike, drive a car. 

I remember how often I’d been on the receiving end of those hands. She’d say, “this is going to hurt me more than you”. 

I wonder now, if she really believed that, or if she’d learned this backhanded method of absolution so well in her childhood, she couldn’t see a kinder, gentler way.

I know now she was always doing the best she could. Always. 

As she withdraws more and more from this physical world, her body is small and frail. Her voice a whisper. Her mind somewhere in the distance. 

When we are together, it’s my turn to hold her hand to steady her as she gets up from the chair, goes to the bathroom, buttons her pajamas, and has a meal.  

I know this is her journey towards the Light, and while I am mostly at peace with it, there are moments when I look at her hands and remember with sadness and gratitude the woman she was and how she did all that she knew how to keep me safe. 

I was with her one afternoon and as I was helping her get ready for bed, she was trying to tell me something in a whisper of a voice, something I couldn’t make out. But when I turned to look at her, what I saw was the face of love. Childlike. Innocent. Absolute.

In that moment I realized that no matter what had transpired between us, love was always present, and love is all that remains. 

Blessings for peace, harmony, love and prosperity in 2024 and beyond. 

In love, 

ps: Writing this love letter and honoring my mother’s hands, is a beautiful example of how you and I have the choice to rewrite the stories of our lives in ways that support and empower us. If you would like support doing the same, let’s chat. 

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