Tag: motherhood

embodied grace and love

I know! I married and movie star! (And now, this starlet is not too happy with the way I started this tribute!)

Because my bride, my love, is only a movie star if you measure stardom by the capacity to live your life for others, by the authenticity and safety you give others because you are integrated and at peace with yourself, and by fulfilling your role as mom and Nana with embodied grace and love.

Perfection is not for those who wish to be impactful mothers. It is a messy, imperfect, daunting, perilous journey, filled with detours, fireworks worthy joys and celebrations, hurts, and the work and often difficult commitment to love… selflessly… with abandon… I am so grateful for the grace and love that I see in our kids that came from their mom.

Nana: Thoughtful. Present. Patient. Giving. Ruth makes everyone feel special, seen, welcome, safe… and that’s her with any other adult that is a part of her world.

But for her grand kids… well… turn up the volume and crank the bass all the way up! She is all in. She has a way of making small things special. A ride to school turns into a conversation where she expresses care, love and affirmation. A visit to her office turns into an opportunity for a grand child to partner with Nana and all the important work she does.

There are too many examples to name, but Nana consistently speaks life over these kids. She connects with them in deep levels that are understood between her and each child.

She is a shining star in the hearts of all who know her… especially her beloved grandchildren. I am grateful.

sageness… moxie… love… my mom

What follows are small scenes that have surfaced in my heart as I reflect on my mom. She passed away in 2023.

I can remember, as a child, laying on my mother’s lap as she gently consoled me through the pain of another ear infection. I can only imagine, in a moment like that, the pain that my mom might have been feeling. She lost her first child.

For my mom, it seemed as if every cough sneeze, or stomach ache was an emergency room triage worthy event. And who could blame her. An abiding, dark sorrow walked beside her until she passed. I believe her great love came from her immeasurable capacity to give of herself and serve, and her fear of loss. I am grateful that she is at rest, and has been reunited with her first child.

This may sound odd, but my mom carried herself the way I would imagine a person of true royalty would. Not in a high and mighty way, or in any way that would set her apart from others – she was the most grounded person I may ever know. She was soft spoken, easily discerned people, and gave respect and attention to any one, while quietly expecting the same. She was barely 5 feet tall, but she was regal and statuesque of heart, mind, and soul.

I cannot remember my mom without remembering my dad. In her nineties, I had the privilege of watching my dad wash my mom’s feet. Every morning he carefully washed them, then he applied lotion and an analgesic with a precision and caution that any surgeon would envy. Sacred moments.

While my mom’s melancholy and depression was always near, she had a capacity for celebration and joy that, for as long as it lasted, kicked sadness and affliction down the street. Her laughter was a sunrise… a million stars in a heartbroken sky.

Wisdom + Insight + Discernment + Knowledge + Experience + Lots of moxie + Love = mom.

I suppose that if any one of us carried the weight of this life for as long as my mom did, we would be willing and eager to be free, to leave this world, to bid farewell to the ephemeral joys and pleasures that may come, and to awaken in an eternity of unwavering, holy promises from our Lord. My mother has no need for a lamp or light, and she, who wept so, has no more tears. All of her burdens have now been lifted. I miss her smile. Her love. Her wisdom. Her sageness and savvy. I am so grateful for my mom.