Their hands lay gently on top of each other. Beauty and grace, hard work and time, etched on each. It's a picture of their hands but it reveals so much more. It reveals not only how close they are, but of how alike they are. They are mother and daughter but also friends. Both have nurtured, both have provided, both have been the caretaker. Both have listened, both have comforted, both have soothed. Each has held the other's hand in joy and sorrow, celebration and grief. Each has held the other's hand to support, to guide, to hold the other up. Each has given all of their heart and all of their strength to the other. Mother gave the daughter life. The daughter held her mother's hand in death. And now the joy and comfort come in knowing, someday, they will be together again and this time there will be no death, no tears, no pain. Only joy.
