memories, Uncategorized

My heart grew

I have noticed that I think back to my children being young often. Missing their sweet chubby young years. When I was pregnant with my first I was terrified. I hadn’t even planned to have a baby and then all of a sudden I had to make a family for the kids and try not to lose the baby. I was raised to play housewife and mother so I knew how to do that. I just didn’t know how to do that in the world. It might not sound like a big difference but it is. Especially at twenty-two without any solid groundwork laid. I was afraid I wouldn’t know how to love my unborn child. I was so afraid I didn’t dare speak my fear aloud. I am terribly superstitious about putting my fears into words. I had built such a great wall around myself. I had jeered at lovers and newlyweds. I avoided close friends and families. I laughed at the girls thinking they were in love. Ran rowdy with the boys that were no good laughing at their women who sat at home believing their men to be honest and faithful. I kept my walls high and believed that was how I wanted my life to be.

woman looking holding while holding head with left hand
Photo by Austin Guevara on Pexels.com

Then I held my daughter in my arms. Her skin so soft. Her fragile little body, all 5 lbs of it. Trusting me to care for her and protect her from all that might come at her. I would sit for hours holding her while she slept. Tears would sneak down my cheeks from the deep love as my heart hurt from the depth of it.  I knew that in a blink of the eye she would be grown and gone. I wanted to treasure each moment. Love each stage my children went through not worrying over the terrible two’s or waiting for the pre-school age. I vowed to love every stage they went through growing up.

woman carrying a baby
Photo by Silvia Trigo on Pexels.com

As I try to bring forward my childhood, my past to lay out as chapters in a book I find my mind wanders. It grasps onto peak moments without easily grasping the hidden pieces.

That moment when all-encompassing love touched my heart and it grew. I treasure that moment. It is a memory easy to think of when faced with troublesome writing. I was willing to have feelings for who could help but love these beautiful little beings.

artistic blossom bright clouds
Photo by Pixabay on Pexels.com

6 thoughts on “My heart grew”

  1. I have the same memories of my son, now grown and married. Some day, probably sooner than later, I will find myself as a grandparent-having to assume the whole role, as my wife passed on, eight years ago. The years certainly do fly by, and the stages are each worth treasuring.

    Liked by 1 person

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