January 8

Somewhere between the criss cross lines of my palms was a tiny line that made its way in. It shreaked in annoyance instead of a pleasant ‘hello’ when I first looked at it. I examined it closely and had no choice but to keep it. It grew a little longer with every passing year while the other lines faded, changed course, or stopped abruptly. It quietly understood my pounding pulse and calmed it with a shy embrace. It warmed a frozen thought, or my heart. It taught me patience and gave me endless lessons on how to love without expections. It was wise beyond its age. It also appears that it sneezes, giggles, throws tantrums, burps and poops, and calls me ‘Ma’.

It is my lifeline.


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