As I sit here holding hands with Mom –
It’s hard to tell where her hand
ends and my hand begins.
That special connection that exists
between a mother and daughter –
how do you begin to explain it?
I realize our clasped hands say everything…
As I sit here holding hands with Mom –
It’s hard to tell where her hand
ends and my hand begins.
That special connection that exists
between a mother and daughter –
how do you begin to explain it?
I realize our clasped hands say everything…
Mama Dot and I were “hand twins”.
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My Mama’s name is Dot too.
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