blankwithoutyou

0113. my mother's hands rocked the cradle, changed the diapers, cooked the meals, cleaned the dishes, washed the laundry, fed the mouths, spanked the buttocks, wrote the consent forms, signed the report books, ironed the shirts, mopped the floor, swept the dust, wiped the tables, carried the groceries, scrubbed the walls...

i dawned upon me all the things that the hands of my mother had done so far when the finger print identification gantry failed to allow her passage through the customs the other day.

her prints were all roughened and scratched out permanently because she raised me up.

and for that, i cannot be anymore grateful.