Sixty-four

Dear Nay,

I offer you my tears for the pain of breathing life into me. Accept my hands for the many times I grew cold and closed my door. My voice for your silence when I wouldn’t shut up; when I kicked and cursed in your face. I volunteer respect; I realized now that you know what you are doing. You were right all along but you let me found it out my way. I give you my sense of compassion for being of service to you is a great gift. I offer you my prayer for I know you never forget to include me in yours. I give you love for so great is yours that I cannot equal it with anything that I have and am. Know that my life is yours should you want it; I won’t be here writing this if not for you.

My daughter,

I am gladly accepting these but know that I am blessing and returning them again to you. For my life is yours also.


For her who is celebrating 64 years of life; most of whom spent on the joys and tears of motherhood.

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