SOULspace

My Mother is 60....so what does that make me.... Yep...thats right...you got it...OLD!!! Now this is not about me, it's about her all the way. As I flash back, I remember many incidents...some funny, some sad, some thrilling, some mundane, and mostly that she was always there.... Most of my memories of my mother is of her diligently working at something or the other, either at the kitchen, or in the garden, or in our rooms. No wonder she could maintain our spacious house single handedly! I remember our first house, a huge sprawling one, with an even bigger garden. That's probably why she developed a passion for plants, perforce having to tend to such a big garden, the natural nurturer in her took over! I remember the wallop my sister and I got when we got wet in the rain one afternoon!! Now I have to constantly remind myself that, when my son insists on running into the rain.... I remember how my mother took one look at my brother and the hanging arm, broken while ...

When no more than a cell, She protected us and nurtured us, Held us in her womb. Coursing her blood and breathe within us, Waiting for that day, for the unseen to be seen! Every birth is a story To be recounted many years hence, To willing or unwilling ears By her, as she lives through An experience very few can forget. She is there when we smile For the first time, She is there when we cry for the hundredth time! She is there to see our rage, Our anger and our bitter acrimony. She is there when we are failing, To see reason and the right way. She is there when we are confused, And unable to comprehend. She is there to infuse courage At moments when we are unable. She is there to see us take pride, In deeds and acts that make us. She is there to see us take, Our first tentative steps into adulthood. She is there to coax and cajole us, She is there to pacify and console us, She is there to smile and humor us, She is there to beat and scold us!! We take her for granted Until that day w...