MOM- three letters that mean the world

 (Wrote this for Mom. It's just a thing. Kinda switched from 2nd person to 1st too  and my grammar is terrible too so. .)

👇 

You watch her cook. Witnessing. And suddenly this universe of unknown proportions and unfathomable depths shrinks.

.

Into the tiny cozy space of a 4 by 4 room. You call it the kitchen. And right there before you she stands. Mother. 

You watch her chop the onions, peel potatoes, slice carrots. You watch the practiced  rhythm of a wrist  handle the knife.

Steady. Unwavering. 

.

I watch her stir up a stew, I watch her turn over the stove s knob and  trigger the lighter, I watch as a lotus of blue and yellow flickers to life at its centre, and I watch her set the pot on the stove. 

I watch her, forgetting time and space. 

I watch her because this moment is blessed. 

I watch her as if I might die within the hour. 

I watch her because for some inexplicable reason, I must. Because somehow deep down I feel that this moment must not go unwitnessed, unacknowledged. 

I watch and I commit to memory every single detail as much as i can. I watch with the awe of a child and with the wise eye of an old man. 

I ponder on the scars, both seen and hidden, the ones that weigh heavily on her mind but never on her face. My warrior Mom. Always Grateful. And ever more Graceful. 

I Look at The hairs streaked heavily with white.

 I think about The marks of monstrosity.

The speech problems she's been experiencing lately. 

I watch in silence. Ive watched her suffer. And I've watched her sacrifice. Now I watch her breathe.

                                        - Usama (small kiddo)