When I was young (I use the term young rather than little because I haven't been little since I was 6 months old) I used to wear my mother's shoes. I would walk around in her high heels and try to recreate the sound of her walk, the sound I associate with Sunday mornings, the sound of her heels on the brick sidewalk outside our church. My mother was a small woman so I wasn't very old when I could no longer fit into her shoes.
People refer to me as strong, they assume that within my 6 foot frame there is strength and in many ways they are right. Like everyone, I have strengths and as I've grown and had different experiences I have nurtured those strengths. Some are obvious, some less so. Some old, some new. But strength, true strength of character and spirit needs no physical presence to be present. It simply is.
I misunderstood my mother's strength. I thought her strength was in direct proportion to her size. I wish I had realized this mistake before I lost her, before she faded away before my eyes.
My mother was a strong woman, she just carried her strength in a small frame.
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