This is my mom and I in February of 1977 (see in the bottom right? I love old photos with the date sitting quietly in the corner like that.) I am about six weeks old. She is only 19 years old. She looks tired. I look ready to wail. She is undoubtedly in the thick of meeting needs and discovering limitations. Today is her birthday and what an appropriate time to celebrate her on the heels of yesterday's post. Now, that I am 35, I feel like I am just beginning to appreciate and understand all that she has given to me.
We live very far apart now - like 2,193 miles apart - but she once cared for me in the way I care for Rylie, diaper change after diaper change, meal after meal and sleepless night after sleepless night. The work and challenges of motherhood are universal, and timeless. Our shared, common experiences play over and over. In all the ways that our stories are similar, they are also very different. My young mama didn't have the internet or a group of moms to consult about sleep patterns and teething pain. She didn't have a vast library of books explaining different parenting styles, breastfeeding, or education philosophies. She used her intuition and tradition. And, really, she had all that she needed.
It is no doubt that having a child of your own opens your eyes wide to what it must have been like for your own parents. I have gained a perspective on them that I could not have gotten any other way. I think about my mom when I am carrying out all of the practical aspects of running a household and being a mom, but most of all, I think of my mom when I am gazing into Rylie's eyes and contemplating how precious it is to be alive. And I think, my mom must have felt this tender and amazing love for me too. Over the years she has shown and professed her love to me countless times, but until I became a mom, I had no idea of the depth of that love. It is instinctual, primordial, in the bones.
My mom, with my sister and I c. 1981. I'm still wailing!
This is my mom last November with her two youngest grandchildren, born on the very same day. There is a sparkle and happiness in her eyes here and I can see her pride. It makes me wonder about having more children, and maybe someday, grandchildren of my own. If I feel this much love for my own daughter right now - how does that love grow? How does it expand and multiply when your children have children? How can it get bigger? How can it all fit into one heart?
Love you, Mama! I hope you are having a beautiful day.
Hello! I'm Liz Scott - mama to two little ones, maker, and all around curiosity chaser. I live with my family in Los Angeles, where we seek to fill each day with adventure, joy and creativity. I write about it all here on the blog. Thank you for visiting.
