When a woman gives birth to a baby, bestowed upon her is this power that she can make or break the entire life of her child with one smooth move. That’s kind of a lot.
I don’t think most moms even realize it.
In fact, I would go so far as to say that a woman wouldn’t grasp the depth of such a truth until she has come to love a child whose entire life was shattered in such a way.
I have three of these such kids.
And the thing is, I know they love me. Loving me isn’t even the challenge. Allowing me to love them isn’t either. The obstacle is them believing that I could possibly find worth in them that is not based on their actions- and stick around unconditionally. That is the tough part.
And so, I have been going along loving them through the big feelings that are far too difficult to accept and comprehend- regardless of how old these kids grow. As they get older, we talk more openly about some of these things. As best we can anyway.
Life moves along. Good days, bad days; huge days, small days…
And then the post man brings me a letter from my oldest daughter that changes everything.
In it she tells me that she finally knows I am not going anywhere, no matter what disappointments she could ever cause.
It strikes me, the power in that.
The gift… Because, it is a gift. To extend such faith in me when the very idea of faith feels ridiculous…
I am humbled and awed.
And more than anything I am incredibly grateful…