Little hands

<p><em>I found this poem on instagram. I think the more people that read it the better. Enjoy!</em></p> <blockquote> <p>I'm 80 years old, and somehow..</p> <p>I woke up in my 32 year old body.</p> <p>Just for one day.</p> <p>I wake up to little hands tugging at the blankets.</p> <p>"Mommy, wake up!" they shout.</p> <p>I blink, and I sit up slowly.</p> <p>My babies. They're small again.</p> <p>I gasp. I cry.</p> <p>They climb into bed giggling, wiggling.</p> <p>I used to rush through mornings.. but not today.</p> <p>I pull them close.</p> <p>I hug them tight.</p> <p>I kiss their messy hair.</p> <p>I hold their little hands.</p> <p><strong>This time, I soak in every second.</strong></p> <p>I catch my reflection in the bathroom mirror.</p> <p>No deep lines.</p> <p>No grey hair.</p> <p>My younger face...</p> <p>I used to think I looked old at 41.</p> <p>What a silly thought.</p> <p>I stare for a moment and think, "You are so beautiful."</p> <p>I find my husband in the kitchen, making coffee.</p> <p>He looks strong, Young.</p> <p>I wrap my arms around him so tightly.</p> <p>He looks surprised.</p> <p><em>Maybe we didn't hug enough back then, I think.</em></p> <p>We talk about the day nothing big.</p> <p>But today, it all feels big.</p> <p>I memorize the sound of his voice.</p> <p>We pile into the car, kids arguing over seatbelts.</p> <p>Someone drops a snack.</p> <p>Crumbs everywhere.</p> <p>I used to get so frustrated.</p> <p>I soak in the noise, the chaos I know my car will be quiet and spotless for many years to come.</p> <p><em>But I'll miss the mess.</em></p> <p>Dinner is loud and unorganized.</p> <p>No one wants to sit still.</p> <p>There's shouting, giggling, a little arguing and so much life.</p> <p>I don't clean up right away.</p> <p>I just sit and watch.</p> <p>Trying to burn it all into my memory.</p> <p>Before bed, I pick up the phone.</p> <p>I call my mom. And I hear her voice.</p> <p>Mom..MOM</p> <p>I haven't heard this voice in so many years..</p> <p>I close my eyes and let her words wash over me.</p> <p>I tell her I love her again and again.</p> <p><strong>I never want to hang up.</strong></p> <p>This time, I don't leave anything unsaid.</p> <p>At bedtime, I don't skip pages in the story.</p> <p>Not tonight.</p> <p>I read every single word.</p> <p>Then I ask, "Can we read one more book?"</p> <p>They say yes.</p> <p>I don't want this day to end.</p> <p>I got one more day.</p> <p>And this time, I knew.</p> <p><strong>This was joy.</strong></p> <p><strong>This was love.</strong></p> <p>Those little hands.</p> <p>The loud, messy dinners.</p> <p>Our strong, young bodies with no aches or pains.</p> <p>Our parents who are still alive..</p> <p><strong>It all mattered so much more than we ever realized.</strong></p> </blockquote>