Just one shot.

This my favorite of them all. It means alot to me. It will always be special to me.

She took my hand and squeezed it lightly,

She rested her head upon my shoulder,

She smiled at me and whispered,

"Just one shot at this."

I wondered why she smiled,

Wasn't this all, all too grave?

What if I got this wrong? This only chance?

I whispered back these worries,

But she just smiled more widely,

And sighed,

She said, "Darling, the artist paints his pictures,

But he always has another canvas,

And darling, a writer types out words,

But he can always erase,

So it's the same, isn't it?"

She smiled once more

Her dimples showing,

Her face glowing,

Enough light to lighten the world.

My eyes grew round, and I tilted my head a little,

I spoke after much consideration,

"So what you say,

Is that I can risk this,

But I can take it back?"

She pouted, as if in deep thought,

She lowered her gaze and spoke

In a voice that did not belong to her,

A voice that was close to cracking.

"Not always, no,

But what I mean, is that, if it doesn't

work out to well,

You aren't stuck on the same road,

There's always a way out."

My face contracted, a tear fell,

And I said to her

"What if there is no way out?

What if I am stuck forever in a abyss of tears and remorse?"

She looked at me tenderly,

She wiped away the tear,

And put her arm around me,

She said, "Sometimes you just keep

missing the trains that are supposed

to take you to where you want to go,

Sometimes you do feel stuck,

And sometimes there seems to be no way out.

Sometimes the tears can't stop falling,"

She bit her lip, and hesitated,

Then looked at me intently,

And said with words I knew she spoke from the heart,

"But my dear, there's something in there,"

She patted the left side of my chest,

"Darling, even when you're stuck

You've got the hammer,

You've got the nails,

You've got the paint brush,

You've got the paint,

So if there is no way out,

Make your own."

She said with a playful glint in her eye.

I smiled.

And said, "So..."

She smiled and waited,

"Just one shot at this?"

She kissed my forehead,

and nodded, with tear glistening in her eye,

"Yes darling, just one shot at life."

I did not wipe away the tear

that rolled down her cheek,

Because I knew it was a happy one,

I kissed her back, and whispered to her,

"I'm going to make you proud one day, Mom, if God wills."

I searched her eyes, but I only found more tears,

Then she held me close,

And said to me, "You already have."

She's my hero.