Wishing Veins

The veins in her hands crossed like letters. Or maybe it was a wishbone. It made me think of my own wishes. Did I have any? Are they worthy wishes? Are they even big enough? Were they goals or ambitions. Turns out, my wishes were already alive. Then it occured she will soon no longer be. I' took it upon myself to carry on for the both of us. Thank you, Mom. Thank you, Dad.