My youngest sister just posted this on facebook.
Every single person in the picture is a mother now – a fact both astonishing and not. In this photo the mom is my mom, our mom. Here, somewhere in a field in south central Texas, she sits forever 33 with her four little girls, lined up by age. I’m the oldest, the one in all yellow.
Also in that forever way, I know each of these small people. I know the woman and her mothering. Because this moment endures as an image, I get the deep pleasure of remembering these things I know each time I see it. Entered now onto the world wide web it becomes electronic legacy – our mother’s legacy and each of ours.
Today the five of us greet the day as daughters and as mothers at five different addresses in four different states. We look one generational direction and see the seven young souls we daughters have birthed and raised. We look the other way and see our grandmothers, their mothers and theirs.
This is change. From an image to a Sunday morning in May.
Its progression is as natural as the whirling of the planets around the sun. As miraculous as well. Through the change motherhood, this role we all five share now, continues no matter the weather or wars, or even the government and its legislation. Like the bluebonnets in the Texas spring, we bloom and seed new lives that grow to seed their own. And so on and so on.
The whirling of planets, the reliability of spring, the progression of girls to mothers – these are ingredients and assurances of change because of the way they endure.
My love to my MAma.
My love to my Sara.
And to mamas and their children everywhere.
On we go.