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September 22nd, 2009
I sat in Ella’s room tonight and thought about magic. As I rocked her and sang whispers in her ear, I thought about how special this season has become to me. I remembered the welcoming of last Autumn, and the meeting of kittens outside our door. I still see that trio, dashing across the street at night. They are still symbolic in my eyes.
I sat and rocked my sweet daughter in my grandmother’s rocking chair. I thought about the times I watched my grandmother herself rest in it, all of us gathered around our Christmas tree, she the eldest, like our gentle queen. I miss her and I wish my children could know her. I am certain she knows my daughter.
As I rocked I thought about the mothers in my family whose paths I am following. My grandmother, my mother, my aunt. We rocked and swayed, resting in an heirloom that has been shared by mothers. And I thought, there is a piece of each of them, each of us, within Ella. That, is magical.
I thought about how magical it is to be a mother. To be a part of this race, to have experienced bringing a whole new little life into the world. To nurture this little being, to feel such love, before even meeting her. To prepare her world for her, to be there when she arrives, and to know such pride that you are now a part of her life.
Last Fall we waded through each day full of eagerness, anxious to welcome our little gift into our selves. There was magic in that time.
Tonight I felt that magic again, as I rocked my daughter and sang whispers in her ear.
