My Mother's Hands

Night time is the hardest part of the day for me. Every night as I lay in bed, thoughts of my mother come flowing back. My mind just doesn't seem to shut off as dreaming of her has seem to become a nightly ritual for me. My nights are spent reliving the time spent in the hospital with her, her last birthday, her last days here on earth. My mind just doesn't seem to turn off. And missing her, is continually getting worse. Since it seems to be getting more difficult to fall asleep I thought that I might as well write down my thoughts and memories of her. So my next group of postings are going to be random and in no special order. And most likely not well written or thought out for that matter. They are just going to be what I am remembering tonight.
Tonight I can't stop thinking of my mother's hands. Whenever it was time to say our goodbye's after visiting my mom. She would reach out to grab our hands and say say "I love you". I have always known that my mother had beautiful, no I mean gorgeous hands. Long slender fingers and always perfectly manicured nails. She seriously should have been a hand model. I on the other hand have short stubby fingers. Can'y grow nails to save my life. And those that I do grow, I just end up chewing off. But each time I got ready to leave and I'd squeeze her hands. I would linger just a little longer, and rub them so gently. I have never felt hands so soft as my mom's and I would often comment to her how soft her hand were. Deep down inside I stroked her hands not ever wanting to forget her softness, but also not wanting to loose the love that flowed through her body to mine, as our hands were intertwined.
My mom was always feeling pretty crappy, and while at the hospital, a lot of time, she didn't feel like a lot of visitors. She was especailly concerned about her grankids and didn't want to scare them, by seeing her so sick and hooked up to so many different lines of medicine. I as a mom didn't want to make my kinds worry about their grandma being sick. We really never talked about her dieing, but just mainly talked as if she was very, very sick and that cancer kills "some people". We had taken the kids to Lagoon one day, and I told Brian that I thought that on our way home, we needed to stop by the hospital and let my kids see my mom. I didn't want them to worry about her, but I wanted them to see how sick she was "just in case" something was to happen and she passed away, with them only thinking that she just had a little illness like the flu or something. I wanted them to see that she was "really" sick. Just "in case" I didn't want them to be totally shocked. Our visit was very brief, and we only stated a few minutes, as she would tire easily and start coughing uncontrolably if she talked too much. But again as we were getting ready to leave, my mom reached out to grab my hands, and I said "Mom I just can't believe how soft your hands are. Here guys, I want you to come feel how soft grandma's hands are." Then each one of my kids, one by one, went and grabbed my mothers hand as she gently caressed their hand in hers, and each one told her that they loved her. At the time my kids thought I was pretty silly. Little did they know, that would be the last time they would ever feel my mother's soft loving hands. The last time they would tell her that they loved her. And the last time they would hear that she loved them too, as my mother would pass away the following week. Oh how I hope to never forget those hands. Their beauty, their softness and especially the love that flowed through them. The love that can only come from a mother's touch.