Skip to main content

You Made Me a Mom

This is the 12th Mother's Day without my mom. I miss her very much and as most children, I probably didn't appreciate her and the sacrifices she made for her children as much as I should have while she was here on this earth. I always treated her with respect, she knew I loved her and I cared for her in the last few months of her life. I've learned a lot about mother hood since her death.

This is a picture of her holding my last baby. She held Ashley Rose before I did, because I'd had a crash c-section to save Ashley's life. I never actually saw my baby for two days. Mom never let me forget that she held her first. It's not a great picture of my mom because she'd been crying an awful lot that night, not knowing if the baby or I would survive.



My mom was and is beautiful.



She taught ME how to a be mom. But the baby below is the one who made me a mom for the very first time. Stephanie Ann.



You were the light and the life in my world. My day, my night, my forever. My heart grew in size the moment I saw you. I've never been the same since that day in January 1989. Carol Lynn Pearson put it best in her poem, My Day Old Child.

"My day old child"

My day old child in my arms
with my lips against his ear
I whispered strongly "How I wish,
I wish that you could hear,

"I've a hundred wonderful things to say
(A tiny cough and nod)
Hurry, hurry, hurry and grow
so I can tell you about God."

My day old baby's mouth was still
and my words only tickled his ear,
but a kind of light passed through his eyes,
and I saw this thought appear,

"How I wish I had a voice and words,
I've a hundred things to say,
Before I forget, I'd tell you of God,
I left Him yesterday."


So fresh from heaven. Perfect, miraculous and the most amazing being I'd ever had the honor of loving day and night.

Carol Lynn Pearson also spoke the words from my heart in her poem,

Mother To Child

Look --
Your little fist
Fits mine
Like the pit
In a plum.

One day
And one size,
These two hands will
Clasp companionably.

Help me, child
Forgive me
When I fail you.
I'm your mother,
True,
But in the end
Merely an older equal
Doing her faltering best
For a dear
Small friend.



Thank you for being my baby girl. For allowing me the experience to be a mom for the first time. Now that you are mom to Enzo, I hope you know that all the feelings you have running through you for your young son, were also coursing through my heart when I had you. My baby girl.

Happy first Mother's Day, baby girl. I love you.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Online Friends

I'm sure you've heard by now that blue is the new black, forty is the new thirty and they're lying through their teeth when they say that last thing. Also, imaginary childhood friends (you know you had one) have been replaced with online friends. They're the same in that no one ever really sees them, but you talk to them, you play with them, your other friends and family think you're just this side of a restraining jacket and you're a lot older than you were when you first had friends you never saw. Sure they're real you might say in that mocking tone you have . Well stop that. Save your mocking for later on when I tell you all about my Internet friends. No, I can't see them, or touch them, although some of them have asked me....um, well, we'll go into that later. People have become friends with other people across the world, sometimes they've become friends with people they'd never become friends with in RL. That means real life for ...

The Boy

Will Soon Be Graduating From High School This means, in some small measure, I have successfully managed to get him through 12 years of school and to the age of 18 alive. No small accomplishment, that. Today he called for a ride home after he rode the bus most of the way to our house. As it was about 90 degrees outside, I obliged. I'm a good mom, plus it got me out of a very hot house and into the sweet deliciousness of my air conditioned vehicle. My oldest and youngest daughters went along for the ride and they spotted The Boy before I did. "What's up with his pants?" Indeed. The operative word for his pants was up . He wears those extremely skinny jeans and he'd rolled them up to about knee level and he was walking towards us with a grimace on his face. He was in pain. You see, five hours earlier, in the throes of near heat exhaustion, he rolled the legs of his pants up and then his legs swelled up. He was unable to remove his own pants or roll down what he...

Wheeeeeeee!

Today I was awakened to the not-so-delightful sounds of enormous dump trucks, (you know the ones that are a dump truck and they haul a trailer behind?) dumping truck load after truck load of dirt behind my house. Then the most incredibly noisey and squeaky (do they not grease the tracks on those things??) grader began shoving the dirt and rocks around. I had to fight the urge to throw a can of WD40 over the fence to the driver. It wasn't even eight in the morning. It wasn't even 7:30 yet. So I reluctantly arose from my bed and cleaned up the kitchen. After it was spotless, I went back upstairs to my freeze-zone (the only room in the house with AC) to do some online banking and make calls to check on medical bills, etc. As I was finishing up, in walks my husband! At first I had a moment of Oh-no-he's-lost-his-job terror. Then it passed after he smiled. Seems they ran out of work for the day. Odd, but then that's Boeing. So hubby was roped into going school cloth...