There are few things as powerful as answering the phone to hear your child speak your name and then start crying. My Evie called a bit ago. He must have antennae because I had just been thinking about him and missing him but knowing it was late where he is at. He is having Easter with his dad’s family. It is a big family and they boys always enjoy those visits. His dad and older brother are out to the marina fishing. “E” is hanging at his Auntie’s house watching Phinneas and Ferv. And he misses me. Which feels lovely but also painful. I miss him desperately when he is away. I miss them both so much sometimes it hurts. “E” has all his little quirkies. He will cuddle with me in bed or on the sofa. He says, “I Lego you.” Sometimes, on the now rarest of occasions, when he is asleep, I can catch the faint glimpse of my baby Evie. I miss them as babies and toddlers. They are so different and yet so stunning and wonderful. I am a blessed mother.
I think of Mary, the mother of Jesus. I think of her and her baby, her toddler, her young son. I think of her pride and joy and sorrow. I think of her burden and the terrible grief. She most certainly has a seat in Heaven; her bleeding heart was nicked the day she first felt that flutter in her womb. She heard the Angel Gabriel’s words. She remembered the request made of her by the Lord. And I know I would struggle. I am not a nanometer of her perfection or faith. I would surely fight even the Lord to protect my sons from the pillar.
I hope my baby falls asleep easily. I hope I do, too.