a letter to my mom (who says she’s falling apart)

by Kaitlyn Clare Elizabeth Mason

to-michelle

Dear Mom,

As I take my kids to doctor’s appointments, wipe runny noses, and make lots of tomato soup this week, I find myself realizing why you say you are falling apart. 

If your memory is going, it’s probably from years of remembering when to take temperatures, when to administer medicines, and when to pick us up and drop us off from practices.

If your shoulders are sore, it’s probably from the thousands of times you picked us up out of the crib. 

If your lower back is aching, it’s probably from the awkward position you must assume to get a kid into a carseat and from the strain of bending down each night to pick up big pots and pans to put on the stove. 

If your hips are hurting, it’s probably because you carried us to the potty chair and to bed against our will countless times, sometimes enduring strong kicks and flailing arms.

If you have arthritis in your hands, it’s probably from stirring stews in pots and browning meat for our meals, and mending our clothes, and sewing us beautiful things, and helping us learn to play piano.

If your voice is changing and tired, it’s probably from singing us to sleep and filling our hearts with beautiful songs to give us hope, and something to remember when things are hard. 

If your hearing is going, it’s probably because you spent years hearing baby screams and cries and laughs, and overhearing sibling fights, and maybe eavesdropping on conversations to make sure older kids weren’t getting into trouble. 

If your knees are shot, it’s probably from years of kneeling down in prayer for us, and from countless diaper changes.

If you have stretch marks, it’s because you were open to God’s will, carried children within you, and helped us come into the world and experience light. 

If your face is full of wrinkles, it’s probably from hours and hours spent smiling at our happy baby faces, pouring out lots of love, filling us up with happiness to carry us through a lifetime.

And so it is my sincere hope and prayer, that when I arrive at your beautiful age, I can look at myself in the mirror, and be falling apart every bit as much as you are today.  Because then I can know with confidence, that I gave everything to my children and family, in the way that you gave everything to me. 

“This is my body, given up for you.”  These are the words of Christ. They are also the words of my mother.  How beautiful it is to imitate Christ.  With all of my heart, thank you.

God bless you, I love you forever,

Kaitlyn Clare (a.k.a. Your Angel Bunny)

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