Tomorrow is my baby boy’s birthday. He turns twenty two. So, I know I can’t technically call him a “baby boy.” Except that he’ll always be my baby. I love being a mom!
I remember my grandmother saying the same about my mom. She was always her “baby.” I noticed that mom smiled every time she heard my grandmother say that. Amazing how our hearts develop and open like a rose, petal by petal, as we better appreciate the memories we gained from family members no longer with us. Like the fact that, when you’re the baby, you’re always gonna be the baby.
My baby boy is now a man serving in our country’s military. A man getting ready to deploy and deal with harsh things so that we citizens may rest a bit more securely. Times like this are a tad bit hard on a mother’s heart.
It causes me to think. About what we may take for granted. About the freedoms that aren’t so “free” to those families who have lost loved ones in wars or conflicts.
It causes me to think about the wonderful-ness of motherhood.Of how women become moms through trial and error, here a little and there a little. Sometimes a free-for-all and sometimes orderly and almost perfect.
Motherhood- How hard and tiring and eye opening and heart softening and wonderful it is! I have been a student in many classes – some from universities and some from the school of hard knocks. Nothing has taught me more about being a better person or a better woman, than motherhood. Or made me seem more lost and unlikeable on occasion!
Except my testimony of goodness and of God.
It’s awesome to know that God loves my children even more than I do. His love grows in me and through me as I better understand – just a bit – his amazing love. I think about how I am one of God’s “babies” whom He loves and treasures. And how I get the chance to share a bit of that love though the years, as a wife and as a mom.
I remember rocking my baby boy and singing to him. The same hymn nightly. For years. A little bit of heaven. Pure joy!
My baby boy had a knack for saying just the right things to bring me joy and contentment. Then, for a while during his teens, he knew just how to send me reeling. How to push my buttons. How to make me sad. But when he was happy? That smile could [still can] light up a room.
Then, he began to be a man. He sent me messages, like when he was small. Little “Thank You, Mom” notes and messages to let me know that the years of teaching and influencing had taken root. Those are the pay days for parents. The joy and warmth and happy-to-overflowing moments.
Then his eyes were opened to Real Life and Things of Importance. Like faith and courage and integrity. Wisdom being added to knowledge. Stuff that makes a mommy proud, no matter how old their children. As he and his siblings have grown and changed, so have I. Just as they’ve learned, so have I. Growing up together, I think, in many ways. Oh, the wonderful gift of being a mom.
I could write a sonnet of gratitude to each of my children. Maybe one day I’ll do that. Can I just say I am really grateful to be a mom?
Something wonderful happens inside my heart when each of my children has a birthday. I celebrate in ways I can’t even give word to. In ways they don’t even know. I don’t even know. But it’s good. And tender. And really “Big” for such a quiet inside-of-me feeling. So I’m gearing up for celebration: tomorrow is my baby boy’s birthday. 🙂