My Mother's Hands. Original work by Me.

There comes a time in one's life, that they begin to question everything they've been raised on. The traditions, customs, morals, and values of their family's history. And one begins to wonder, if she is turning into anything like her mother. A big heart, bruised by words and actions alike. Callous to a point, except when it comes to her children. And then I remember, even in the midst of all that I'm going thru, Yes, I'm just like my mother. I am the best parts of her. Rampant with passion and ingenuity. Creative beyond even genius capacity. Stubborn like a donkey, steadfast in what I believe. I fall hard, and love harder. I trust everything that smiles. I have my mother's hands. That, I'm most proud of. The hands that bathed me, when I was too young, who caressed my cheek when I was crying from broken heart. The hands that are attached to her arms, for amazing hugs...my mother's hands
.. I am proud to be my mother's daughter.