Your hands

Quinn, when you were a baby, your hands would curl around mine, and engulf me in so much love I thought my heart would burst wide open. Your hands have been very busy. They reach out for a cuddle, they wrap around my neck and squeeze - transferring your love to my body. No matter how weary, how tired, how exhausting they day may have been, your hands around my neck make it all worth while.

Your hands have painted, drawn, sculpted play dough, decorated my sidewalk with chalk, held bubble blowers and made bubbles dance in the air. They have been dirty, clean, burned, scratched, donned band aids, nail polish and sharpie pen drawings. They hold you up and keep me grounded. They cuddle stuffies and curl into your body when sleep overtakes you at night.

Your hands are practicing for adulthood. Then they have the arduous task of signing cheques, writing grocery lists, typing documents, driving your car and carrying the weight of the world. They will caress babies, wipe away tears, and cuddle with someone else. They will push me away, slam doors and text message everyone other than me. They will hold someone else's hand and make them feel special.

Stay little, my Quinners. Hold my hand and make me feel safe. Let me use my hands to wipe tears and wrap you into my arms. You are special, and wherever you go, whatever you do, remember that my hands will always be here to hold you.

Love, Mommy