Patience

It's not her strongest asset. Today she was nervously awaiting a special delivery. She did her usual pacing, scrubbing, cleaning, then stared out the window. I remember when my sister and I lived at home, if we were out and came home just in time, she would be there, waiting at the window, watching for her brood return to the nest.

Today was no exception. She was at the window. That I was permitted close enough to take any shot is impressive. That I didn't get a serious tongue lashing equally so. That I managed to prize her away from the window, sit down and then smile, and look at ease, a minor miracle. Just after this shot I was told to go away, or something like that.

It's a shame that she was clasping her hands so tightly that you can't see her rings. My mother adores jewellry and has rings on her fingers, and perhaps even on her toes. She certainly has music wherever she goes. She has a beautiful voice, I didn't inherit it. She always has the radio on, and often, like me, stops in her tracks to sing along.

Dad and I danced today, it was perfect. I started to sing this and he joined in immediately, remembering it all. What a song. Something to hold on to.