For although there are generations not born yet, the seeds from which they’ll come are in the body of the child right here.
The wind blows and no child is just one child.
Every child carries generations of children inside.
Every child is like nestled dolls, all these generations nestled within — and mothering is a holy trust of whole entire eras.
Every day, every mother, she mothers thousands – all the children yet still to come. ~Ann Voskamp
These beautiful words were shared by my friend, Gayle Dowell, this morning on facebook. They ring to so true, but make me melancholy. Knowing that the way I have raised my children will have effects that ripple for generations magnifies my every action and reaction. As a mother of two mostly grown children, I read these words and wish I had been wiser, more gentle, better prepared. I wish…
I cannot change the past, those parts I’d rather have responded with grace, but I can choose to recall the joy that we have experienced as a family. And I can adore the moment.
This past week has been quiet here. My daughter is finishing her first semester of college. My men are on location working side by side.
Without having the duties of teacher, wife and mother, I’ve had a great deal of time in the studio.
The week has been a taste of what life may be like when my youngest graduates from our home school.
I like the rhythm of my days, having time ruled only by the grumbling of my stomach, but have found I have had my fill of quiet.
