Last Sunday while at my mom’s house I thought I’d look in the basement for some Easter decorations. For some reason I thought she had heaps of Easter bunnies and pastel plastic eggs, but I was barely finding much of anything, so I continued searching. Right when I was about to give up and head back upstairs empty handed, I noticed a big green storage container. I knelt down and started going through all of the photos this huge box contained. I noticed they were mostly mine from my childhood up to about when I was 18 years old. After making my way halfway through the photos I noticed an adorable vintage looking baby book of some sort that I had never seen before.
I automatically assumed it was either Michelle or my little brother’s for some reason. In any case, I pulled it out, opened it and what I found inside was like magic. It was my baby book. Inside were my mom and my hospital bracelets, my bow from my newborn photo, a newspaper clipping with my birth announcement, stamps of my little feet and my birth certificate, which before that moment I had never seen and thought was gone forever. Before I knew it, my eyes were welling up with tears. As I turned each page I read who came to visit mom and I in the hospital when I was born and the gifts they brought me, all written in my mom’s very familiar, feminine handwriting.
The more I perused, the more little messages I found from mom. Little sweet notes telling me what kind of baby I was and what I liked. According to Mama June, I was a “very happy baby”, I LOVED my bottle, and I “squealed a lot at five months”. As I grew to become a little toddler she wrote that I loved McDonald’s and Christmas…I was utterly obsessed with them both, I remember. I was so obsessed with McDonald’s cheeseburgers that I had cheeseburger button covers. Sadly, this is all true. I have since lost my love for McDonald’s, but I swear, if I could listen to carols and chat about Santa all year round, I would. These little messages from my mom shot straight to my heart. Mama June has grown very quiet these days. She is happy, but she quiet. So to hear her speak to me through these little messages were nothing short of a gift. But there was one message in particular that caused the flood gates to open.
She writes: At 3 yrs years old you tripped and knocked out your two front teeth. A retainer is placed in. Your (sic) still beautiful.
And that is when I ugly cried for a good five minutes by myself as I was kneeling on the concrete of her basement floor. It was that last sentence that was filled with so much motherly love and compassion. The words that only a mom could say to you when you are feeling sad, or ugly, or not good enough. The type of love from a mother, that only a mother can truly give and one can feel. It was also the timing. The past few weeks have been different as she has become, often, as quiet as a mouse. Even though I am not three, but thirty three, I still yearn to hear my mom say anything to me. Whether it’s “I love you”, “you’re beautiful” or even “go get me water”, I would take whatever I could get to just hear her talk to me again. And she did, directly to me, through little notes she wrote to me thirty years ago. Almost as if placed right where I found them at the perfect moment I would need to see them.
I am a firm believer that everything happens for a reason. And there is a reason I went searching for Easter decorations that day and didn’t find any. I found something much more needed and much more loved.
There is magic all around us, you just have to open your eyes wider and look for it. You will find it.
Love it. Live it. Share it.