It’s the memory of those times of cuddling with my young girls while reading them Madeline or Harold and the Purple Crayon; recollections of shopping for new school supplies and picking out the perfect first-day-of-school outfit; seeing those perfect, innocent sleeping faces and waking up to their calls for ‘Mommy’; hurting when they were hurt and fixing their ‘ouchies’ with Bactine, band aids and love; outings to the park, movies, building forts in the living room and eating dinner under the sheets and blankets, that bring back and offer reveling in one of the most powerful gifts a woman is granted. Mother. Teacher. Nurturer. Comforter.
My daughters are now amazing, talented women who have carved out their own path in life. I made many mistakes that used to keep me bound in shame and guilt. Seasons of recognition and reconciliations have granted me the permission to digest, then disengage from these invasive emotions. But even standing in the freedom, sometimes that empty aching for my little girls and the gift I was given to be their mommy can interrupt my present joy and touch my heart with a bit of sadness. In those times I say, “Thank you they got to be a part of my life!”
Empty Nest, Mid-life, Menopausal emotions, call it what you will. Becoming a mother can become one of our core identities. For me, from that first moment my new born baby was placed in my arms, I was gifted with an overwhelming sense of purpose, calling and a deepest sense of fulfillment.
Just gratefully reflecting.
Just so grateful.
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