A little dab of honey dribbled into my heart the day my mother saw my face and deemed me precious. From that moment honey trickled through my veins and pulsed through my body, enough to last a lifetime.
Honey carries golden love that flows only from mother to child, through light kisses, tender embraces and softly sung lullabies. Mom was the sweetest constant in my life. Her heart overflowed with that sticky elixir.
Where did she get her honey? Who dripped it into her heart? It was her mom, Grandma Pickle, of course. And hers? I don’t know for sure but I bet I could guess.
Down the line it goes – hearts and honey. It’s a mom thing, in our family. No wonder mine shared it so naturally.
Pure, liquid, pasteurized; clings to your veins like a sticky, wet lollipop to tissue.
Nature’s purest, you can’t serve the tiniest smidgen without getting a touch on yourself.
I wonder how my kids would answer the question. Who put the honey in their hearts? I think I know.
Honey and hearts – down the line it goes.
Happy Mother’s Day to all my readers – Moms, daughters and sons who will celebrate on Sunday.