Turning over, sitting up, crawling, walking, talking, riding a bike, writing your name, reading… all milestones. Some I have pictures of and some I don’t.
There are others that cannot be captured by a picture. Those that include learning to empathize, choosing to share, applying your faith, forgiving someone that has hurt you, forgiving yourself, and so many others that prick the hearts of parents. Moments when you see your children excel in things other than reading, writing, science and math. I’m not minimizing the importance of learning (I was a teacher, remember?) but rather trying to remember those things that are learned through life. Those character lessons that normally come through pain.
I have found that I am becoming more and more like my grandmother. We rarely had the opportunity to visit her (she lived in Washington State) but when we did I noticed that she would tear up about most things. She cried when we hugged her, cried when she shared memories, cried at special occasions, and cried when we said goodbye. I completely understood the goodbye cry. Goodbyes are not my favorite. Lately, though, I find myself crying at milestones… mainly the character building type that I see in my children.
I cried when Kenneth prayed that his friend could forgive him, cried when Brooke shared something that was really important to her with someone else without being told, cried when the kids and I talked about meeting the baby(possibly babies) in Heaven that I lost, and cried when Morgan and I discussed baptism. There are many others (I’m sure my kids would be agreeing with me on that about now… and laughing…).
Maybe it’s that I am learning for the first time to feel my emotions. To realize that it’s OK to be emotional and that “too emotional” should not ever be spoken again. That God made me unique and with a tender heart that feels deeply.
One day my children will hold their children and watch them reach milestones… and they’ll cry or feel that deep twinge in their hearts. And I pray that as they do they’ll remember their Mommy who loved them enough to cry and celebrate their milestones. A Mommy who cared. A Mommy who loved. A Mommy who sacrificed. A Mommy just like my grandmother and my mom
Being a Mommy has been the most difficult yet most rewarding job I’ve ever had. God certainly knew what he was doing when he created a Mommy’s heart.