Written in 2003 for Mother's Day...for my mom, Lexie Marie.

My Mother’s Hands

Sometimes I look down and quite to my alarm
There are my mother’s hands at the ends of my two arms
How did this little girl grow so old, so very fast?
I thought my childhood days would forever last

But here I am grown, with kids of my own
Not kids…adult women…oh, that makes me moan!
When did the days go by that were carefree and long
When all I did was play and dance, and sing a little song

And wait to hear my mommy, yelling out the back door
“Come to dinner Rosebud before there is no more!”
I miss those happy days of childhood, now only in my mind
I miss the time with my mom and hanging clothes out on the line

I miss the smell of warm and freshly baking bread
I miss her yelling up the stairs “out of bed you sleepyhead!”
I miss the lazy afternoons at eight-nineteen East Main
I miss my sunny bedroom and the sound of a tin-roof rain

I miss the big claw-foot tub, and the oversized kitchen sink
I miss the 3-channel TV, often on the blink
I miss my Dad playing guitar and finding 4-leaf clovers
I miss my mom’s sewing….I miss my patchwork covers

But now I am grown and have to behave like all good grown-ups do
I go to work, I clean, I cook…but sometimes I don’t have a clue
I still call my mom to get advice, “how do you do this or that?”
And I realize that at my age, I should know all the facts!

But I don’t…and that’s a worry…who will my kids turn to?
But maybe when I’m old, I’ll know all the things to do
And they will call me on the phone and say “Mom, can you come over here?
I’ve locked the baby in the car and afraid he’ll knock it into gear!”

Ah, but alas…I have raised smart daughters who seem to know it all
But someday they will let out a scream and to their husbands they will call
And when the hubbies walk into the room to calm their ravings and their rants
They’ll laugh when all they hear them say is “when did I get my mother’s hands?!”