From My Mother’s Lips

“Mothers hold their children’s hands for a short while, but their hearts forever.”

[Unknown]

As the 10th of October draws closer with every day and with it my 30th birthday, I have experienced a turmoil of mixed emotions: Pain, sadness, grief, anger, confusion and helplessness. I can’t help but believe, that the passing of this day will mark the passing of these feelings.

Until then, as I am at loss for words, I feel it is only appropriate to let my mother speak. The following passage is taken from her diary, which she commenced in anticipation of my arrival.

May 31 1981

I’m sitting here in the midst of wild flowers, tall grass, surrounded by a deep forest, overhead a blue and white speckled sky.

I left your Daddy and our home for today with a most definite intention of being alone with you. I feel you inside me off and on all day long, and as you beat your hands and feet against me in outrage and protest begging for more room – breathing space, my stomach extends itself evermore in sympathy with you.

Anyways, this morning, after consuming a copious breakfast, the two of us left your dear father to play soccer and bounced of down the road looking for a utopic resting ground. All for the noise from the traffic below it is ideal – don’t you agree? And already two young deer danced before our eyes. Sometimes I’m amazed at how beautiful life can be. Your life to me is wonderful. Your father marvels at the beauty of you and tenderly caresses and kisses you. Do you feel him through all those protective layers?

I don’t know if you realize, that this is the first and the last time, that the two of us will so intimately be as one.

The field wherein we lie is full of multi-colored wild flowers and we lie here in all our blissful nakedness, so innocent, none would dare breath a discouraging word.

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21 thoughts on “From My Mother’s Lips

  1. That is beautiful, what a gift your mother left you in by documenting her heart to you. Precious. Thanks for sharing so candldly , it gives me courage. We all need a lot of that.

    • Yes, she did leave me a great gift. And I have read and re-read the diary many times over the years and every time other passages speak to me – thank you for thinking about me 🙂

  2. Hey, hope you’re doing OK? You haven’t posted in a while…just checking to see how your bday went and how you are. Not that its any of my business, but just wondered as you sort of slipped away really fast. I know how that can be though. Anyway, that’s all. Take care, patrice

    • Thank you Patrice for caring so much 🙂 Yes, I am fine – I just somehow got really really busy these last couple of weeks, but as soon as I have time I will come back and post some more, because I really miss it and I really miss talking to you too 🙂 Thanks again

  3. Well, I’ll be happily waiting for your return:). I mean really, you don’t just teach someone how to use emoticons and then disappear. Please, people get attached;).

  4. Hey, just want you to know i still think of you sometimes. i really valued what you shared here. It made a huge impression on me. I haven’t experienced anything like that since doing this whole blog thing. Anyway, hope you’re doing well. Best to you, Patrice

    email me if you want, patricemj@comcast.net

  5. Hi, I’m nominating you for the Liebster award, I know you’re not blogging much these days but I’m supposed to select blogs or bloggers I’ve enjoyed. Hope you are well, You are awesome.

    • Oh wow! Patrice – thank you that’s so flattering! I really want to start blogging again – I miss it and you! Did you get my email? Hey, maybe that can be my new years resolution! 🙂

  6. Pingback: Everyone’s A Winner! | Thirty Years Of Growing Pain(s)

    • Ah, that’s sweet! I wished I knew how to get streight to the point like you do. Everytime I post something, I always have this little twitch of “the poor reader struggling through my ramblings” 😉

      But yes, I agree, she left me a wonderful gift 🙂

  7. This is so sweet, so beautiful. I love the way your mom wrote this. What a gift for you to have. If only we could all be so lucky to have this deep, intimate look into our mothers’ thought waves during such an amazing and precious time. I know you mentioned wanting children someday — I hope you consider writing a journal yourself while you’re expecting. I never did and sometimes it makes me sad that I can’t specifically remember all the feelings I had during that time. Even the early newborn days. (But who has time to write then anyway?)

    • Yes, I actually would consider it. She didn’t write on a daily basis, but I think there are about 12 entries prior to my birth and maybe 5 afterwards – then my dad stepped up and added 3 more after my mom passed away, so this cute little leather book has maybe 100 blank pages left – I thought it would be neat, when / if I’m expecting to include my own thoughts in the same book – that way it could be passed on.

      Obviously, this will be a bit difficult if you end up having more than one (can’t really salomonically seperate the book), but I’ll have to figure that out when I get to it 😉

      I always loved her writing too – but than to me it could have been a shopping list and I would have swooned over it 😉

      Thank you for taking the time to read this – it really means a lot to me – I think this and the post about my grandfather are the two posts that have the most meaning for me 🙂

  8. Pingback: What My Mother Said Next | Thirty Years Of Growing Pain(s)

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