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第25章 亲爱的母亲Dear Mom2（第1页）

第25章亲爱的母亲DearMom（2）

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Lately，I’vebeguntolookonmotherhoodasaninitiationinto“reallife”

.Idon’tthinkIrealizeduntilJana’sbirththatthelifeI’dledpreviously—relativelyfree，easy，athelifeledbymostpeople—pastorpresent.Bybeother，Iseemtohaveacquiredautomaticmembershipintoauniversalclubmadeupofuiesaies，limitationsanddiffidsometimes，unsolvableproblems.Ofcourse，theclubhasitsbeoo.

WhenJanawakesfromherafternoonnapand，sohappytoseeme，givesmeherradiantfull-facesmile，Ismilebadfeelonmyowhesmileyouusedtogivemewhehem.Or，whehingparticularlycute，I’llglaGary，andinthelookweexgeIseetheoneIremembergbetweenyouanddadatoppositeeable.ItwasalookfulloffeelingsIilnow.

WhenIholdJaomeandlookdowntoseemyhandtightacrossherchest.OrwhenItuketaroundherwhileshesleepsandtouchtheskinofhercheek.Iseeyourhands（thhandswiththeirsmoothovalnails，steadyanddg）doihings.ThenIfeelasifsomeoftheloveayyougaveththosehandsisnowinmine，asIpassthatloveontoJana.

&herdayJanafellasleepagainstmyarm.Imusthavespewearingather，marvelicolorofherhair，thesupplenessofherskiih，movingnowandthearushIfelt，ofloveandwonder，ofdludmore.IsuddenlyrememberedsomethingIsawonyourfacelastsummer，whenIwashomeonavisitshortlyafterJana’sbirth.

&ingonthegliderswinginthebackyard.Itwasal，coolthereintheshade，andtheairwasfullranyarden.IwasholdingJaoelemovementoftheswing.

ButIwasn’tenjoyinganythingjustthen.I’dhadaroughnight.Janawassixweeksoldandhadbeenupeveryfewhours.I，fretfulandnervousasoherbe，hadbeenhavingtroublefallingbacktosleepbetweenherfeedings.Iwasdtired，andnotfeelingcheerfulaboutthismotherhoodbusiall.

Sittingontheglider，wetalked—orrather，Italked，lettingloosemyloadofayandfrustrationsonyou.Andoutoftheblue，youreachedovertotouchmyhair.

“It’ssopretty.”

yousaid，anoddexpressiononyourface.“Thewaythesunishittingitjusticedyouhadshlightsbefore.”

Alittleembarrassed，preoccupiedwithhtsandproblems，Ishruggedoffyourent.Idon’tknowwhatIsaid，somethingshortanddismissive，nodoubt，asIwavedawaytheent.Butyourwordsaffectedme.Ithadbeenalongtimesineohingtrulybeautifulinme，andI

IthastakehislohatthelookyougavemethatdayisthesamelookIgiveheralmostdaily.AnditmakesmewopossiblethatyoustillseethemiramethatIseeihemagiueevenwhenyrownandgoneahemselves?WillIlookatJanainthirtyyearsandstillfeelthesamerushofloveforherthatIdonow?

Italmosthurtstothinkofthatkioovulile.Ikhebarriersthatspriweeheirovertheyears，thefriisuandings，thedailyflidstruggles，theiablepullingawayandfinalbreakforindepeothinkthatsomedayJanaaveawaymytentativewordsofloveasIdidyours.

enstrushoflove?Isitloststheway，buriedbeiicalitiesfchild?Orisitthereallalongunvoiexpressed，until，perhaps，anewchildisbornandamotherreachesouttothter’shair?

That，itseemstome，istherealmiracle:thewayamother’sloveisrediscovered，repeated，passedonagainandagain—asithasbeenhandeddowninourlivesfromyoutome，frommetoJana，andfromJaoherowisagiftinitself.

&I’vebeeosayallalongis，thanks，Mom.