Mothering

Sitting in the kitchen at Mamaw’s house, listening to her direct my 63 year old mother how to prepare a dish she has oft prepared, helped magnify the reality that regardless of the age of your children, you will always be their mother. In her 89 years on this earth, my grandmother, or Mamaw as she is lovingly known to her family, has raised eight children. She is surrounded by scores of grandchildren and great grandchildren and great great grandchildren. She has lived now to see four generations brought to life from her life and experience. Imagine the beauty of that?!

As my mom prepared the dish, Mamaw sat at the counter, watching each step. I could hear my mom respond under her breath, much like I did at 15 when my mom stood looking over my shoulder. I love watching her hands at work; hands identical to her mother’s. These are the same hands I see when I look down at my own. Strong hands. Hands that have  accomplished much, worked hard and produced something. Hands that nurture and protect.

Now, as mother to a fourteen year old girl myself, surely there are moments that mirror this exchange; moments of motherly love inevitably passed down through the veins. I watch my girl with anticipation of all her potential being fully realized. I instruct and marvel; words she may exchange for nag and hover.

The truth is, mothers cannot help but to mother. That instinct is born at the first stirring of life in our womb. I still remember  that moment well. After a long day and night, preparing a dinner party for 25, I finally sat down to rest…my four month pregnant belly starting to extend. I felt a little flutter, much like a goldfish swishing around a glass bowl. Joy washed over me, helping me forget my tired feet.  The motherly instinct grew astronomically from that moment on; sometimes completely overwhelming all rationale. The instinct to mother fills our thoughts as we watch our children take their first steps, walk through the school gates, pass the graduation podium, down the aisle, and over the threshhold of motherhood themselves. The instinct to mother keeps us from sleep, steals our breath and drives us to instruct our 63 year old offspring to stir the pot and turn down the heat before it boils over.

I enjoy watching these moments of motherly love between my mom and grandmother. It makes me proud to be from a heritage of strong, genuine, women who hold the future in their hands and faith in their hearts. ❤

  

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