I hadn’t planned a Mother’s Day blog post, and yet this landed in my in-box today. Its sentiments are too lovely not to share. Happy Mother’s Day to all of the amazing women out there who are mothers, who have mothers, or who have donated the privilege of mothering a child to another woman. Celebrate the relationships in your life!
…and the mother I’m thinking about all the time isn’t the one I expected. It isn’t my mother who is fantastic. It is an honor to be her daughter. It isn’t my grandmother who I knew for a short time but who I love simply for the memories of my father speaking of her and then choking up with adoration years after she died.
It isn’t my friend Auburn who is my kind of fast-food purchasing, writing during the soccer games, adoring Mom. Or my friend Kristyn whose six kids seem so wonderful and I often think about her parenting advice. It isn’t…but it doesn’t really matter who it isn’t.
I am in the process of an adoption. The details are, of course, not for public consumption, etc. But I am adopting through Foster Care. Obviously that has associated meaning. I spend much of my quiet moments thinking of how I…
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