To rest.
My mother. In ritual and in heart, she is at rest. Dancing with my dad. Smiling at us. Laughing once again.
My soul. Cuddled between friends, who made me laugh so much, cleared my head and held my hand. ‘Til sunrise and beyond.
My heart. You come home from a tropical island and you hold my hand while I have that cry I have been holding back on. I tell you the things I needed to tell you and texts or emails just wouldn’t cut it. You dance with me whilst we wait for things. You’re totally okay with my bad days, and you smile with me through the sunshine. I fall asleep, curled into you. I sleep the sleep that my heart so needs, and your warmth envelopes me like a cocoon.
My daughter. My daughter turns five in two days. She’s quiet in churches, she’s learning how to add. She cuddles in to me as we talk about our days, and she tells me she loves me in a million different ways. She tells me I’m the mommy she always wished for, and I tell she’s the daughter I always wished for. Her love knows no bounds, and her nearly five year old miracle of life is my every day blessing of beauty and grace.
My hand. At rest upon this keyboard again, I write and I will never end.