Picture of Love

I don't have any pictures of my mom and I from when I was a kid.  Believe me, I looked.  I checked all of my photo albums, my photo sleeves and even my smoky scented little box that holds all of my precious momentos like medals, poems, love letters and senior pictures.  The little box that I rescued from my old bedroom, or at least what was left of it after the fire that destroyed my parents house 10 years ago.  I think that was the hardest loss for all of us.  All of our picture memories were savagely destroyed, leaving us to depend on our mind memories to fill in all the events of our childhood.

This is the earliest photo I have with both of us...

She carefully crimped my hair, section by section, starting at the crown and going all the way down to the bottom.  She bought me a dress I loved and embellished it with peach rose accents and ribbon.  She found the perfect veil and gloves and peach patent leather shoes and purse accessories.  It was everything I wanted and I am sure it took more money and time then she anticipated but she happily did it for me.

I was afraid that I would forget all these details.  That I would forget the love if I didn't have the picture reminders of my childhood.  Would that time of my life cease to exist because I don't have proof of it in my hands?

As I was busy living my college years and then the rest of my 20s, maybe I really didn't think about it all that much.  But she was still there, a constant supporter and cheerleader in my life.

Then I became a mother and suddenly it all made sense.  It made sense why she took so much time and effort making small details of my life perfect.  Until I had a child, I simply did not know it was possible to love another so deeply, so selflessly, so completely.  I needed that experience to understand.  The world came into sharp focus and with that came a confidence I never had before and an appreciation for mothers, grandmothers, aunts and all women that love, nurture and encourage.  And I didn't need pictures of Florida vacations, camping trips or her gazing into my newborn eyes.  Because I now feel it in my bones, in every cell in my body, every time I look at my child I can feel just how much she loves and believes in me.  And I could not be more humbled.

I love you, Mom.  Happy Mother's Day.