blogtoeverything there is a season

To Everything There Is A Season…

The other day I was weeding through a bunch of my pictures on the computer. (Understand that this is progress for me! I’m still really a shoe box kind of person!) It seems the more the writing grows, the more art I need, and thus, the more skills!

One picture really struck me. You know, one of those ones you look at and say, “Awwww” and move on because it wasn’t at all what you thought you were looking for? I moved on and went back and moved on and went back quite a few times. And then I began to wonder what this picture was saying to me.

As you’ve probably guessed, that’s me on the left, Mom in the middle, and my sister, Molly, on the right. It’s possible that this is the only reasonably decent snapshot that exists of the three of us since about the time I started first grade and decided I hated having my picture taken.

The obvious question is, why this picture, now?

Well, Mom would have been 81 on Wednesday. And Molly is coming for a visit beginning Tuesday night. It may be the first time we’ve been in the same place for Mom’s birthday in 30 years! That’s a lot of the “why?” I’m sure. But there’s another layer.

This picture was taken at the baby shower we had for Kelly when she was expecting Kenzie, our first granddaughter. The kids were in Scotland. My dad had died several months before. I think we were all feeling sad about missing those moments of hope with the kids. So I went to Florida and threw a baby shower.

I asked the guests to please bring books or CD’s that they loved, new or used, to pass on to our little one. No pink or blue stuff. They don’t tell you things like that in Scotland. Nothing I couldn’t put in my luggage when I went for the birth. Just the things I think are so important. Stories and songs.

I was amazed, that day, to look around the room and realize that several of  the guests were the same wonderful women who had come bringing love to the baby shower they held for me when Dave was born. There were old and dear friends from many parts of my life, most of whom I’d known since I was a child. And there they were, ready to love Mom and Molly and me into a new chapter of our story.

Kenzie will be nine in September. I’m not sure how! The next time I see her, we’ll look at this picture and talk about all the people who loved her even before she was born. And read a story.

Or maybe write one!

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