Every little girl practices being a mom at least once or twice. I wasn't much into dolls, but I had a few, loved a few, envied a few, damaged my most expensive ones. See the one on the table in the baby chair? She was given to me by my great Aunt Eileen who loved me very much. She didn't have children of her own. And my mom didn't show her the haircut I gave to that very expensive dolly.
My friend in the picture, my oldest friend Steph and now a mother of four, just lost her mommy last month. Her mom was like a mom to me. I think in life we have lots of moms. Her mom was my mom's best friend too. She was different from my mom and she taught us both just knowing her and being loved and cared for by her. Steph's nephew, her oldest sister's son, now teaches my son guitar and bass. He is one of my son's "fathers" in life. God's plan is amazing.
Then I had my own doll and brought him straight to Valley Forge. He must experience important things.
His first peach was on the banks of the Schuylkill River. These things must be noted and I did note them, date and all, on the back of the picture. I'm not sure if my third son has even had a peach, but my first one did in Valley Forge on August 1, 1992, on the banks of the Schuykill River.
There is something about a baby...other women get in on it. They cannot resist, old or young. Some want to reminisce...some want to pour out love...some want to feel love...some want to breath in love...some desire God and truth somewhere deep inside and see that this might just be the closest thing to it.
My sister in law had two children of her own already, but fell deeply in love again with ours.
Some hold a baby and begin to entertain having some more. This sister in law of mine had two and then two more after this picture was taken. And her little girl looks to me like she's looking into the eyes of a baby and finding herself imagining the idea of motherhood for the very first time.
Sometimes I forget the blessedness of motherhood. I look too much at the things that need fixing and not enough at the things that are eternally true like love and precious gifts and people caring for one another.
I spent my mother's day morning sitting next to my mom in church, listening to one son play the guitar, my other son read a verse and my other son sing. Who could have imagined back on the banks of the Schuylkill river that motherhood could reach such fullness?