 | |||
| My first Mother's Day, age 25 |
This picture was taken on Mother's Day when I was 25. What you can see in this picture is me toting around a little baby, my first child, Gwendolyn at 6 months old. What you can not see is that on my back I am carrying her toaster-sized feeding pump. You can not see the hours spent at the hospital, the devastation I felt when her diagnosis, cerebral palsy, was first spoken. You can not feel my heartbreak after her first surgery and her dire prognosis was discussed.
What this picture portrays is a young mother bringing her infant into nature.
And in this moment nothing else matters.
The hours of therapy, the multiple surgeries, the grief carried and expectations lost are nowhere to be found.
The purity, the innocence and love are reflected in the stream we are crossing.
And for me, I'd rather have this photograph than the 1000 words.
Oh, Gina. If you were here I would make you hand me the tissues. But since you aren't here, I have to get up and find some. I love your honesty, your strength and the tenacity with which you fight for your beautiful family.
ReplyDeleteThank you dear sweet friend.
DeleteOh the wisdom from your difficult journey. This is how diamonds are formed, under great pressure. You have found the richness of life that so many others never see: the value of taking Gwen out into the woods and the valuable photograph. This is realistic art. This is love. This is what matters.
ReplyDeleteLOVE your writing!
Nessa
Humbled, Nessa. And so thankful that you helped me along the way. I miss the sessions with at FSC. You helped me see with new eyes.
DeleteThank you!
Your words always bring a tear to my eye. Your picture also seems to be a great metaphor for your life with you crossing that stream, holding your child close and easing through, one step at a time, protecting, caring, loving. You make strength look so easy, & you are my hero.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Kathy.
DeleteI see a mother excited to expose her daughter to the beauty around her, while at the same time determined to protect her at all costs. In that picture you are Everymother. In that regard, we are all the same. It's just that your journey to do all of that's been harder than most of ours.
ReplyDeleteI'm thinking that your recent move back to nature was probably the best thing you could have done. You obviously derive great strength from the great outdoors. And it's your muse.
That's exactly it, Kim. Every mother is the same and connected by the bond of motherhood. The move has been so beneficial, returning to nature and returning home. The muse is definitely at work.
DeleteI love the picture of you and Gwen. I love the expression on your face. I love your strength and wisdom. I love that you're hiking in flip flops.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Ann. Tim can attest that I always hike in flip flops, always have always will as much as possible. My first hike in shoes was in the Pacific Northwest. And I loathed the shoes but the hike was worth it.
Deleteoh, how you have simplified something that is so complex! Beautiful, sad, honest and raw. lovely, Gina.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Sarah.
DeleteBeautiful, Gina. Deeply moving and beautifully-written. You have made me feel all the things not shown, while focusing all the more on those that are shown.
ReplyDeleteJane Ann
http://www.janeannmclachlan.com