As I sit and hold your hand

Today I held your hand for the last time.  We are at the hospice center. They say you have hours or days left. They can't really know how long. You saw me and recognized me. You told me I was so beautiful and you love me. I don't feel beautiful or worthy of your love. We didn't have a great relationship. We both had our faults and our portion of the blame. I couldn't give you the daughter you wanted and you couldn't be the mom you wanted to be. I held grudges and let myself get buried in my own life. And now we're here, 23 years after finally reconnecting, holding hands for the last time. It's all I can give you. This time of peace. This time of love. Nothing else matters but this moment. I look at your beautiful face and watch as you slowly breathe, never knowing if it will be your last breath. And I still hold your hand. Because the past doesn't matter. Our mistakes don't matter. This moment, holding your hand, is all that matters. Tomorrow I have to leave. I know this now. I know that I will never hold your hand again. Not here on earth. One day I will hold your hand again, in Heaven. But until then I will cherish this last day of holding your hand and putting as much love as I can into this moment.