101 Words

101 Word Short Stories

Mom’s Hands

39 Comments

By Sara Winslow

I hold her small hand in mine. Both bumpy with arthritis. Mom in the hospital bed, me at her side. Pulling her forward so I can fix her pillow.

Half a century earlier, she held my small hand in hers. Both young and smooth. Mom in the passenger seat, me in back. Comforting me from some childish fear.

In the liminal decades, with me no longer a little girl and her not yet a dying old lady, we didn’t hold each other’s hand nearly enough.

Now, with the time we have left, I grasp her small, bumpy hand. And I pull.

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Comments

  7. Linda Campbell says

    I really like the comparison of the hands in that it’s counter intuitive to think they are both old and young at the same time. The author has me wondering with the last sentence… “and I pull”… Love it!

    Reply

  17. Margie says

    So true how mothers take care of us and in the end we take care of them… that’s my take away of the hand holding. Well said especially with a hint of what goes on between times for mother and daughter.

    Reply

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