I've been imagining the love I might feel for a child of my own - it's overwhelming, just to think about. Esspecially when I think about it getting to the point of not wanting me around all the time, I don't think I could handle that.
Then I think about the love my mom and dad must feel for me... it's humbling.
I wasn't always the greatest kid to my parents. I said things I regret, I kept them at arms-length (mostly in my teen years and early college). Now I have all the freedom and independence I could hope for and all I want is to curl up with my mom and have her read to me.
My mom tirelessly loved and provided for us during times of severe financial and emotional hardship. My folks were missionaries in Mongolia after communism fell (when I was 7 to the age of 10). My mom learned how to acquire and prepare food, with help from my dad of course, and keep three wild little girls occupied and clothed; she was and is amazing. She read to us for hours while we played with her hair.As I grew up I read to myself, I didn't play with her hair, I craved distance from my insane family. I left our home in Malta at age 17 to live in Eureka with family friends and go to Community College. I still missed my mommy so much it hurt. The freedom I fought for came at a price.
I remember lying in bed the morning my mom left on a plane back to Malta, not knowing when I would see her again and the tears gushed. That first year was really hard but I still saw her at least every six months or so.
This last bout of separation has been the longest I can remember. She left for Australia to do a birth attendance school in June of last year and won't be home until June of this year. Which isn't far away and we are both counting down the days. Between now and then is her 50th birthday and mother's day - I hate that I won't be with her for either of those special days.
It's been so fun to grow up with her as my mom. She's gorgeous, has a beautiful voice, cooks better than anyone in the world, is the best artist I've ever met and now, I'm sure, she's the best at catching babies there is. Yet, she's a flawed sinful person, just like me. I love being so close to someone and seeing the image of their creator and rejoicing in that glory - while acknowledging where we as humans fall short.
In my teens and very early 20s I saw my mom's sins, her short-comings and her flaws and I was so upset. I've since balanced that understand of her humanity with the essence of the divine that lives and breathes within her. She is beautifully and wonderfully made in God's image and I am so privileged to be her daughter.
Today's blog is brought to you by Mama Kat's Pretty Much World Famous Writers Workshop.
