my mother's hands

I just flexed my fingers after unsucessfully trying, again, to publish the birth of our last baby on a birthstory page. It seems like after I spend all this time writing, something happens and it can't be submitted. Oh well. Anyway, I stretched my fingers, and Oh my goodness!! - I have my mother's hands! The long, thin fingers, and wrinkled joints....the thin gold weeding band... It just makes me miss her so much. She wasn't just my mother, she was my FRIEND! My good, good friend. I called her every morning at 8:45, and talked to her about whatever. I called her throughout the day if the kids said anything funny. I called her when I got home from Wal-Mart to tell her the bargains I found, or how the cashier was so stupid, or how I got ripped-off. I called her after she got home from dialysis to see if she was okay. I called her when Paul went to a meeting, just to chat. I called her when I was cooking dinner.....

And that is just the phone calls: I got my fanny in the van and visited her every chance I got. I took her everywhere I could. Every place I go, I have memories of her. She was not picky. Sitting in McDonalds while the kids played was just fine for her. She even volunteered to buy them socks at the $1 store one summer day when they were in sandals, so we could go to McD's and sit and talk. She liked the pet stores: she had dreams of the puppies she was going to get someday. She LOVED "going K-Marting", as my dad used to say. She thought going for Chinese was about the best life got. And, she loved coming here...and to think she used to annoy me. I would give anything to be annoyed at her right now! She would come over, and sometimes if she was here all day, I would go lay down. She would say, "Della, why don't you go lay down. I can watch these guys." When the kids came in from school and found Gramma dozing in my chair, they were so excited. She always claimed she wasn't sleeping.... She genuinely liked to hear about their days...
I just miss her so much. I miss going to her house and seeing her in her chair with her robe on...and seeing her standing at the door waiting for me, with her purse over her arm. No one ever had to wait for her to get ready...she was ALWAYS ready when we went to pick her up. "I don't care, wherever you want to go...", she would say....and she always looked back at all the kids in the van and greeted them. And grampa would come out and see the kids, and give us money to go eat or something....and I would protest, and he would yell at me to just take it....he tried so hard not to swear....
Well, kids are home and time is flying...