30 Years, Hopes and Fears

Thirty years ago TODAY, I became a mother.  A young woman is just a girl until she has a child.  At the exact moment a brand new cry startles the room, hot tears streak her cheeks and her heart is peeled open, almost wounded or branded.  The girl is gone.  In her place is a woman with unlimited courage, righteousness, and virtue.  She will protect and defend.  In that moment, really, two beings are born:  the she bear and her cub.  She thanks God for deliverance.

From that instant, she has to think twice--once for herself and once for her child.  Over the next 18 years, she applies Band-aids and justice,  builds character, and holds high expectations.  It all starts in the silence of night, when a mother rocks back and forth, back and forth, clutching her baby, soothing it.  Her dreams are released and float up from her heart, to God's ear, as she whispers them to a baby kept warm and safe in her embrace.

Diapers, school plays, and decades roll by along with Halloween costumes, science fair projects, and driving lessons.  Stories are told and retold, weaving a strong family fabric with a sense of self and pride.  She focuses on the big picture, providing experiences that enrich and educate.  She worries.  She smiles.  She bakes. Sometimes she cries.

He grows up and leaves home and she pretends it is okay.  Her head says one thing but her heart, another.  Her work is done:  there are others.  He is her finest moment; her pride, her joy.  She takes comfort in knowing that within him lies immortality.