and this tiny child -
when i have this little cherub in my arms...
This little lady to make me laugh...
& a whole house full of children - to occupy my days, my years, my hopes and dreams of motherhood...
i'm still crouched over... paused... longing... waiting... acknowledging... Because Caleb and Hope's brief lives cry out to be recognized. Because as the one who carried them - and was forever changed by them... i feel like i can't ignore their impact.The time won't come to pick myself up off the ground, brush off my knees and say - 'There. That's over.' i was changed on a cellular level the day that each of them were conceived.
i became Caleb's mama... and Hope's mama...
And by God's grace, i will do my best to mother each and every one of my children no matter if they're in the next room, snuggled on my lap, all grown up & being mothers and fathers themselves - or carried away to a place beyond the scope of my imagination...
So, two of my little ones won't come to me... won't call me momma... won't pick me dandelions or cry in my arms...
So, two of my little ones won't come to me... won't call me momma... won't pick me dandelions or cry in my arms...
Yet - i will remember... i will be grateful... & until that day...
2 comments:
Beautiful post Paige.
How you manage to put into words how so many must feel is beyond me...thank you so much for this word gift of yours!
This post made me wonder if you buried your babies somewhere... just this summer I finally had a chance to see Lane Foreman's grave in Sonningdale as I was at the cemetery for another funeral. (Amazingly he would have been 40 years old in January of this year). I guess this "pose" kind of reminded me of Jen's pictures at Brenan's grave... and that's why the question came up in my mind.
Saskatchewan Cousin.
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