Merry Christmas

For unto you is born this day in the City of David a Saviour which is Christ the Lord.

Possibility

Maybe this should really be titled change.
Since May of this year, my family has undergone a multitude of change--a college graduation, a highschool graduation, 2 engagements and the announcement that I will be a grandmother before the year is up! This week my family will again experience change as my oldest son will be married on Saturday, and on Sunday, my youngest son will leave for Marine bootcamp. While I am blessed and grateful for the wonderful changes for my children, my life is suddenly something I do not recognize! This week I had an opportunity to attend Spirit of Caregiving workshop through my work. During this program each participant spent some time on self discovery--and spent time on writing our story--making changes if we chose to. I am at that time and place in my life where you spend time re-evaluating, sorting through the would have, should have, could haves if you had the chance to do things over. I have been struggling with my failures as a mother, and not able to get past the wish I would have. Each of the participants in the program was assigned homework for the evening, and had to bring back the homework and share it with the group. My homework was to choose a pair of each of my children's shoes, and write one thing for each shoe that I will miss about having my children at home. Then I had to write a poem or letter from my children to me, that began Dear Mom.
This was very powerful for me, and it allowed me to recognize that by God's grace--I have been a good mother at least some times.

Dear Mom,

I love you.

Thank you for accepting that I am different...Thank you for encouraging me to participate in life, but recognizing that my gift lies in observing and documenting. You have respected my God given peculiarities and defended my right to be me, even when it would often have been easier on both to conform.

From the child who reminds one of the stray cat that shows up outside your door at suppertime, coolly ignoring you, and then when you least expect, brushes up against your leg and after a very very long time will sometimes come and curl up against you, and purr. If you are very careful and pretend that you do not want to, he will let you pet him ever so gently, in one direction only and of course you feel privileged that he let you.

Dear Mom,

I love you.

Thank you for not breaking my will, even though were advised many time to do so. Thank you for recognizing that stubborness for persistence and helping me to find the right direction to channel it. For teaching me that while I often can do things easier and better on my own, that it is sometimes wiser to allow other to participate in my journey, and that I can, indeed I must, learn from everyone and that excellence does not equal perfection.

From the child who has always been able to everything on her own from day one, and usually does it better than any one else. The one you want right next to you when there is hard work to be done.

Dear Mom,

I love you.

Thank you for insisting that I do the hard things and not allowing me to be afraid of the what ifs, or to run from the messiness that is called life. Thank you for reminding me that I am beautiful the way God made me, and that the message that is different sometimes is a whisper, but reaches far and will make a difference to someone, that someone is sometimes self, but that is okay, for it is a important message.

From the child who sometimes feels so much it hurts. Who has a gift form making other's feel that they are the most important person in the entire world, who makes you aspire to be better.

Dear Mom,

I love you.

Thank you for letting go and allowing me to experience so many different things--to find out what I really like to do and what I am good at, even though it meant that you entrusted me to others when you did not want to. Thank you for defending the way I learn, for recognizing that learning for me translates into doing and for insisting my teachers respect that learning also takes place outside of the classroom.

From the child for whom mother's lap was never big enough, her arms always held him too close, and for whom the walls have always felt confining rather than safe. The one who much too quickly outgrew his place on her hip.

Dear Mom,

We love.
We will be good.
We won't forget the password.

I am not the best mother in the world--but for my children--I am their best mom.

I am not sure if I will be able to figure all of this "blog stuff' out, but I have caught the bug. I have been visiting the blogs of some amazing people--and have learned and laughed a lot. I am starting this blog as a way to keep in touch with my family, who are rapidly leaving the nest, and as a way of connecting to others...and maybe myself...just because.

mrstlc