A mother's hands can cure anything.
Something about her hands that create a mixture of beauty and determination, love and durability. These hands have raised six children; soothed and disciplined, loved and created. These hands have wiped the tears of early child hood booboo's, life's successes and failures, endless promising and tragic moments. These hands are truly beautiful.
I've always loved my mother unconditionally, but I've never fully appreciated her love, her sacrifice, her way of raising six children, that is, until I became a mother. A mother will never lose hope in her children, a mother will never give up. Her love is endless, even if the love isn't reciprocated. My mother has always been my role model, my mentor. I strive to be as strong and loving as she is. She is forgiving, she is tender as she is fierce. She is educated, strong and selfless.
Throughout life, my mother has empowered many roles. My mother is a weaver, as I watched her, I was in awe of her talent, her patience, her precise concentration to detail. I felt like a little girl, sitting there, looking up at her. I quickly grabbed my camera, because there was more about this moment, I wanted to capture this beautiful memory.
Like any strong mother, mine has been through a lot; past and present. All I ever ask is her happiness and contentment in life. I know she will never sit for a moment of tranquil until her children are maintained.
My Navajo mother, her children always come first and sometimes tears, stress, and lack of sleep are intertwined with that devoted love. I wish that wasn't the case. I only hope she can let go and trust, that maybe in these circumstances, tough love may be the answer. My mother, there is only so much you can endure, only so much you can do. You have never failed, because your love is stronger than your defeat. My mother, I LOVE YOU.
