A Mother's Arms

Thursday, May 14, 2009

Since we've come back from Scotland, we've had a semi-difficult time getting Kyla to sleep in her crib.  She got very used to sleeping with us in Scotland.  So now we have a "big-girl" night light and a "big girl" pink soother that plays a light show on the ceiling.  I also started rubbing her back for a few minutes each night after prayers and John leaves the room.  Tonight, while I was rubbing her back, Kyla took my arm and started to rub it, then she took my hand, examining it.  She rubbed all along the back of my hand, turned it over examining my palm, feeling each finger.  Then she looked deep into my eyes from her crib.  

And I thought, I know that feeling.  

I

KNOW 

that 

feeling

Comfort. Security.  Safety.  Peace. Love.  Sometimes it's hard for me to shut my eyes and recall my mother's face or voice, but I can remember every detail of her hands and the feel of her arms around me.  I can close my eyes and still feel her hand in my hair gently stroking while I lay my head in her lap.

I

know

that

feeling

A mother's arms, a mother's hands - one of the greatest gifts in life.  To feel them, to know them.  I pray my daughter never knows the loss of her mother until I'm old and grey and she's old and grey.  I pray for that.  I pray she never feels the ache I feel for my mother's arms.  I hope tonight she made a memory.  And makes another tomorrow, and the day after that of us together and of her family.  Ones that will last her a lifetime.  So that when she closes her eyes, she can feel me holding her, gently rubbing her back until she feels safe each night.  

Because

that

is 

an 

amazing

feeling