A little piece from something I wrote

I remember my mother.

She sat at my bed.

I would cry sometimes.

Her gentle touch was solace to my heavy heart,

as she rubbed the temples on my little, red head.

That is what she always did.

Her touch,

Her voice,

ever soft and sure.

My mother:

Pacifier to my soul!

August 18^th 2008,

I said goodbye.

To her touch,

to her voice.

Cancer won the fight.

But her life is in mine.

Her mothering is in me.

Motherhood is

the place in our hearts that continues to thrive.

A gift from our Creator that outshines darkness and pain,

and nurtures charity and hope.

My place is motherhood,

intrinsic to my soul!

Transplanted from mother to daughter,

It’s the fruit of divinity.

Motherhood is

the sympathy of my heart.

The stirring motion that turns my heart

to God,

his will,

his design.