Memere

“You are my sun, my moon, and all the stars.” E.E. Cummings

I’ve been looking at my hands lately. They remind me of my Memere’s hands. I often wish I had a photograph of our hands holding each other.

As a child I remember looking at her hands. She wore a big, brown Scarab on her right ring finger. It would often turn inward after she washed dishes. Her diamond and wedding band sat nicely on her left hand.

As I got older I observed strong hands as she rolled dough for the apple pie she was making. Or when she was stirring her delicious tomato sauce.

Her hands were small but not dainty. They were plump hands with round, thick fingers.

Memere always had a manicure.

As years wore on her hands had wrinkles and age spots.

Memere’s hands were working hands. They had to be. She worked and raised six children.

I don’t recall if her hands were rough to the touch but I do remember how gentle they were when she rubbed me to sleep as a child or as an adult when she applied sunscreen on my shoulders.

Her hands were just a small part of the amazing woman that I got to call Memere. She was my rock. I loved to make her laugh.

Memere was beautiful inside and out. Love for others and love of life radiated her entire being. Her eyes always sparkled with joy.

Some years later Memere’s eyes began to lose their sparkle. She began to change. Alzheimer’s would claim her. Taking her spark and burning it out.

I lost my Memere years before her natural death.

I would visit her in the nursing home. I’d sit and hold her hand. I’d feel her touch. Some days it would feel cold, other days warm. But those hands would always remind me of the love we shared.

Today I am so thankful for my Memere, my memories, and my hands.

(I hope I’m still making her laugh up in heaven.)

CHEERS TO REVIN UP!