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"We're all just walking each other home." - - Ram Dass







Wednesday, January 11, 2012

Memory Weaver

I can get discouraged easily, looking around my life at all of the things I fall short on ~ actual mounds of laundry, dishes of processed foods in the sink...I don't do crafts with the kids like I should, bake like I should, or go on as many nature walks as I should...all of these "shoulds" swirl around me and I worry about what my littles will remember about their time growing up...what they will remember about me.

It's hard work being the magic maker.


Then I read two great posts this week about a mother's memory, Lisa-Jo so touchingly portrays how much we miss about our mothers as children; and how much we learn about the moments they treasured of us, by being mothers ourselves.  And Stephanie wrote breathtaking words about how we moms worry about forgetting these moments, lost because we can't possibly soak them all up.

Both made me sit and remember how I viewed my mother, not now, but as I did then.  What her presence meant to me in those small swell of years I had lived.  Funny, how certain clothes or events are instilled upon me, but not in the way I'd expect.

The torn-at-the-elbows teal bathrobe she wore wasn't perhaps, in hindsight, the most fashionable,
but to me: it was the definition of warmth, and softness... and if anything it was tattered by love and too many hugs.

I thought that before and after school kisses always tasted like a hint of peanut butter, or the whisper of junior mints, and a lot like heaven.

I thought that slumber was brought on by slow rocking in the dark, raven hair against your cheek...Jesus loved me, this I knew, not just because the Bible, but because my mama told me so.

Never once were my thoughts of my mother in childhood based on clean laundry, or Martha Stewart craft afternoons.  They were of her warmth, her smell that meant home, her presence. She meant life.

~~~
Of course life will teach my children my imperfections, perhaps their teen aged years will be spent meticulously charting just what planet I must be from...but their childhood self will know me in ways I hope they never forget.


They will learn that my laugh comes out low, deep, and a little too loud.
But they will know how I delighted in them, head tipped back, eyes disappearing in a bed of crows feet.

They will learn as they show me highschool math that my intelligence can be surpassed quickly, 
But they will know that I am smart on the matters of heart. A touch of my hand can make fake bravado drop. I respond to their needs before they are aware of any wanting.

They will learn that I don't try to keep up with the latest fashion, or keep a teenaged size frame,
But they will know that I smile and feel at peace at how my body changed to meet them, and I welcome that with grace.

They will learn to panic when a 90's dance song plays over a speaker...that I can't keep from shaking these mom hips, spinning my bad self around wildly.
But they will know how I stop where I am, throw myself wide and delight in the moment we have been given.

They will learn that I can be sharp, unrelenting in my expectations.
But they will know through the words I whisper that I think they are brave. beautiful. smart. loved.

Forever they will carry their womb knowledge of me with them.
The encircling strength, maternal warmth, the pulsing of joined matter, and of ultimate worth...the life cord that binds us.
~~~

So I will lay down my "shoulds", my trying to earn being known by the smoke and mirrors of the external.

And rely on the truth that they won't lose this knowledge of me that they keep.

For in reality, I'm not the magic maker...oh, no.

I am the memory weaver.


{Sharing with Tracy's  and Laura's communities today}

12 comments:

  1. Oh, lovely. How love does cover a multitude, doesn't it? You have me swooning here...and straining to remember the good. That is a perfect gift from you to me today and I so very much thank you.

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  2. Loved it Tara, you have a special talent that makes small everyday things so special.

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  3. what a wonderful deep breath in you just took.
    I will dance too...lol... I mean...STOP calibrate and listen..
    :)
    T

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  4. Beautiful! Isn't it amazing at how freeing it is when we look at the sweet faces of our children and block out the list of things we thought we should do? So well said!

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  5. Hi Tara - such beautiful thoughts. We don't honour our mothers enough. Thanks for linking up with me. I really appreciate it and look forward to seeing you there again next week. God bless
    Tracy

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  6. Oh wow. So, so beautiful. This touches me more than you know...I needed this today. Thank you. Blessings to you! :)

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  7. This is beautiful! Thank you for your comment on my blog post about listening prayer.

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