Squarespace Blog / "mother"
Mentoring Monday: The people you might not (or won’t) get to meet.
If you havn't noticed.. Aymee has totally stepped up and taken over the Mentoring Monday posts... and i gotta say im loving these little letters to Maddie... hope your enjoying it too!The people you might not (or won’t) get to meet.Dear Madeline,There are so many important people who you will meet in your lifetime. The first being your dad and I. Then you’ll meet and grow up knowing your grandparents, aunts and uncles (and pseudo-aunts & uncles). You will take them for granted because you will have always known them. But there are some people you might never get to meet in person or get to know. Someday, when you’re old enough, we will have the conversation about death so you will understand this better. But there are/were people in our lives who are very important to your dad and me; people who were a constant in our lives and whom we sadly took for granted as kids.My grandmother, your great grandmother, is one of those people. She is my mother’s mother, and currently lives in sunny Florida with my aunt.
She was born January 3, 1925, which means she lived through all the amazing historical times you will learn about in history class: the Great Depression, WWII, the legendary 1950’s, 60’s, and 70’s. As I’m writing this, she is 85 years old. Betty, as she is frequently called, always has a smile on her face, and gives the strongest bear hugs of any five-foot woman I’ve ever met. She would also always accompany her hugs with an eager kiss to your cheek, leaving a bright pink lipstick mark. When I was a kid, as we’d drive away after visiting her at her house in St. Louis, she would stand on the front porch and wave until she couldn’t see the car anymore: every time, without fail. These things I took for granted as a kid. But I now know the bear hugs, the kisses, the lingering wave--those were all expressions of the deep vastness of her love. She now has Alzheimer’s disease, which makes it hard for people to remember things. The farther back the memory, the easier she can remember it. But she’s starting to forget some of her later memories. Unfortunately, one of the memories she will have trouble remembering as time goes on will be that she has a beautiful great granddaughter whom she undoubtedly loves very much. Currently, we talk often enough that she not only remembers I’m pregnant, but calls to ask how you are. She is very excited to meet you, and I hope your dad and I can make that happen. It will prove difficult, because we live on opposite ends of the country, but one lesson I want to teach you throughout life is never say never. No one knows what the future holds: anything can happen.Another person I took for granted as a kid because he was always around and available is my grandfather (my father’s father), your great grandpa. This is a rare case where you can use the word never. I regret you won’t be able to get to know your Great Grandpa Jones personally because he died a few years before you were born. But he would love if I show you pictures and tell you stories about him—so I will.
He was a simple, quiet, happy man, who always wanted to spread smiles to everyone in the room. He loved having the extended family over for holidays; the house buzzing with kids while the parents sat around the kitchen table, in the living room, or on the breezy back porch and chatted about life, and played card games. I will eternally remember him lounging back in a chair wherever he sat, enjoying a cigar, trying to make us laugh. “On the shores of Gitche Gumee, by the shining Big-Sea-Water…” he would recite epically. As a kid, I had no idea what it meant (it is “The Song of Hiawatha,” a famous 19th century poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Song_of_Hiawatha) but he loved to recite it. It wasn’t until recently that I began to understand him. He was always a distant family figure, and I regret that now. We were two generations who loved each other, but didn’t know how to relate to one another. You will have people like this in your life too. They will generally be older; your dad and I, your grandparents, your teachers, etc. You might have trouble understanding them because you have not yet seen what they have seen: life experiences you are years away from that make them who they are. I promise you: this will become easier to understand as you get older. In the meantime, it is our job to relate to you, because we have been through what you’re going through. It is our job to make sense of this crazy thing called life, and lead you through it safely. Everyone involved in your life is looking forward to developing these kinds of memorable relationships with you. Much like how our grandparents loved us so deeply, and how we often didn’t understand just how much, your grandparents will love you the same. They simply cannot wait to see you, hold you, and watch you grow. Each of them is a different person who will show their love in different ways. Their limitless love will make a lasting impression on you, and you might not understand it until you have children of your own.Love,Mom
Another edit from me: Aymee... Maddie - ugh... this post killed me in all the greatest ways possible... eyes welled up with tears through the whole thing... As you know, I feel the same way about my grandpa - and my memories of him are so clear... i can still smell him. A mix of tobacco, zippo, and oil... mmm such a wonderful scent. Too bad they dont sell it as cologne. It literally breaks my heart that I will never see him squeeze on the boys... he would have been so proud of me... 2 boys in his sea of 5 girls. Such a mans man... ugh... i wish. i wish. i wish... I love you mimi and maddie, your not even here and I already love you... and miss you so so much... im homesick for the fact I havn't gotten to rub your mamas belly... and kick my hand and watch you wiggle about... and i miss you because i know i will not get to see you NEAR as much as I want to... think of me as the ultimate "god" mother... I will shower you with gifts, so youll know im always thinking of you even though im not there... and ill make your mommy ALWAYS show you pictures of me and the boys so you don't forget us... and maybe even tell a few embarrassing stories so your mama can giggle... i love you both dearly... mama - give maddie a little squeeze for me... or a wiggle? Or a hand kiss? I dunno whatever you can do to let her know im thinking of her ;) Love you. Amber
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She was born January 3, 1925, which means she lived through all the amazing historical times you will learn about in history class: the Great Depression, WWII, the legendary 1950’s, 60’s, and 70’s. As I’m writing this, she is 85 years old. Betty, as she is frequently called, always has a smile on her face, and gives the strongest bear hugs of any five-foot woman I’ve ever met. She would also always accompany her hugs with an eager kiss to your cheek, leaving a bright pink lipstick mark. When I was a kid, as we’d drive away after visiting her at her house in St. Louis, she would stand on the front porch and wave until she couldn’t see the car anymore: every time, without fail. These things I took for granted as a kid. But I now know the bear hugs, the kisses, the lingering wave--those were all expressions of the deep vastness of her love. She now has Alzheimer’s disease, which makes it hard for people to remember things. The farther back the memory, the easier she can remember it. But she’s starting to forget some of her later memories. Unfortunately, one of the memories she will have trouble remembering as time goes on will be that she has a beautiful great granddaughter whom she undoubtedly loves very much. Currently, we talk often enough that she not only remembers I’m pregnant, but calls to ask how you are. She is very excited to meet you, and I hope your dad and I can make that happen. It will prove difficult, because we live on opposite ends of the country, but one lesson I want to teach you throughout life is never say never. No one knows what the future holds: anything can happen.Another person I took for granted as a kid because he was always around and available is my grandfather (my father’s father), your great grandpa. This is a rare case where you can use the word never. I regret you won’t be able to get to know your Great Grandpa Jones personally because he died a few years before you were born. But he would love if I show you pictures and tell you stories about him—so I will.He was a simple, quiet, happy man, who always wanted to spread smiles to everyone in the room. He loved having the extended family over for holidays; the house buzzing with kids while the parents sat around the kitchen table, in the living room, or on the breezy back porch and chatted about life, and played card games. I will eternally remember him lounging back in a chair wherever he sat, enjoying a cigar, trying to make us laugh. “On the shores of Gitche Gumee, by the shining Big-Sea-Water…” he would recite epically. As a kid, I had no idea what it meant (it is “The Song of Hiawatha,” a famous 19th century poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Song_of_Hiawatha) but he loved to recite it. It wasn’t until recently that I began to understand him. He was always a distant family figure, and I regret that now. We were two generations who loved each other, but didn’t know how to relate to one another. You will have people like this in your life too. They will generally be older; your dad and I, your grandparents, your teachers, etc. You might have trouble understanding them because you have not yet seen what they have seen: life experiences you are years away from that make them who they are. I promise you: this will become easier to understand as you get older. In the meantime, it is our job to relate to you, because we have been through what you’re going through. It is our job to make sense of this crazy thing called life, and lead you through it safely. Everyone involved in your life is looking forward to developing these kinds of memorable relationships with you. Much like how our grandparents loved us so deeply, and how we often didn’t understand just how much, your grandparents will love you the same. They simply cannot wait to see you, hold you, and watch you grow. Each of them is a different person who will show their love in different ways. Their limitless love will make a lasting impression on you, and you might not understand it until you have children of your own.Love,MomAnother edit from me: Aymee... Maddie - ugh... this post killed me in all the greatest ways possible... eyes welled up with tears through the whole thing... As you know, I feel the same way about my grandpa - and my memories of him are so clear... i can still smell him. A mix of tobacco, zippo, and oil... mmm such a wonderful scent. Too bad they dont sell it as cologne. It literally breaks my heart that I will never see him squeeze on the boys... he would have been so proud of me... 2 boys in his sea of 5 girls. Such a mans man... ugh... i wish. i wish. i wish... I love you mimi and maddie, your not even here and I already love you... and miss you so so much... im homesick for the fact I havn't gotten to rub your mamas belly... and kick my hand and watch you wiggle about... and i miss you because i know i will not get to see you NEAR as much as I want to... think of me as the ultimate "god" mother... I will shower you with gifts, so youll know im always thinking of you even though im not there... and ill make your mommy ALWAYS show you pictures of me and the boys so you don't forget us... and maybe even tell a few embarrassing stories so your mama can giggle... i love you both dearly... mama - give maddie a little squeeze for me... or a wiggle? Or a hand kiss? I dunno whatever you can do to let her know im thinking of her ;) Love you. Amber
Mentoring Mondays: The Whoa Moment...
Another amazing post by future Maddies mama... Aymee. Loving your posts mimi... :)The “Whoa” MomentI don’t know about you, but every once in a while, I have moments where the earth seems to stop spinning on its axis and the gravity of a situation hits me hard. This usually only happens during major life milestones. Graduating high school, getting married, turning 25: these are all instances where, for me, time stopped for a moment and I thought to myself, “whoa.” Either the reality of being pregnant hasn’t hit me yet, or I am very serene about it. I haven’t been able to decipher which one. Adam seems to be breaking this “oh my god” freak-out moment into smaller, more manageable panics and lubricating them with whiskey. He says I was born to be a mother. Yes, in a scientific sense: this is what I’m designed to do, and so maybe that plays a big role. Because this is my most primal purpose, I’m not having that moment of “whoa?” Has nature taken over and put my conscious on autopilot? What I fear is that I’m not taking this seriously enough. As soon as I typed that out, I realized how ridiculous that is. I’m on my second baby book, I religiously follow the dietary suggestions, track weight gain, exercise with the proper restrictions/precautions, I read and play games with my unborn child for brain stimulation. But at the same time, I haven’t had that world-stopping moment. In the first trimester, I would say, “It hasn’t hit me yet because I need to feel her kick.” But that wasn’t it. I’m now in the third trimester where she kicks all the time, and it’s still so surreal. It’s like a movie; as if any minute now, a director will yell “Cut,” the walls of my apartment will part to reveal a set with cameras and crew, and someone will bring me bottled water and powder my nose. Throughout most of my childhood and teenage years, I was so focused on growing up that I didn’t often stop to smell the roses. My first “whoa” memory is sitting on one of hundreds of plastic folding chairs in the middle of the UMSL gymnasium floor amongst my peers, a sea of red caps and gowns. The gym was humming with over a thousand people, students, teachers, parents and other family, talking all at once. After the speeches, I watched as one by one, each row was lead up to the stage. As I was standing in line on the ramp next to the stage, waiting for my name to be called, I thought, “This is it.” The only chapter in my life I could remember was now closing and another chapter was opening before me at the other end of that stage: one that held mysteries as deep as the ocean or space. They do a good job of trying to prepare you for what’s on the other side. I had a plan for my future; I had it all figured out (ha ha). But no one can accurately convey what it will feel like in that very moment when all you know is ending. My next “whoa” memory is from my wedding day (I had two that day). I especially love these for obvious reasons. Adam and I both woke up that morning without an alarm clock, refreshed and relaxed. Adam wanted to do nothing that day but keep relaxing until the big event, so he went and did his own thing while I made last minute errands and preparations for the wedding that night (this is my version of relaxing). After decorating the club with my mom’s help, I picked up the flower to wear in my hair from the florist and leisurely got ready at my apartment. In my perfect black strapless satin cocktail dress with tiny velvet polka dots and vintage heels, looking and feeling like a million bucks, I got into my car and drove to the club. On the road, everything seemed to slow down. The air felt heavier to breathe. My skin tingled. I felt like I was floating. I don’t remember the song on the radio now, but it was perfect for the moment. These were the last few minutes of my life that I would be a single woman. After that my life would never be the same, and I knew it. Much like graduating high school, I didn’t know what lie on the other side of that stage. But Unlike graduating, I knew Adam was a part of that unknown and that made it less scary, and more exciting. As I pulled into the parking lot of the club, life came back up to speed. The night went on as planned. The crowd waiting outside was let in and the tiny club packed wall to wall with friends, relatives, and even a few strangers there to see the bands. There was that humming again. The hum of a hundred or so people talking at once. It was time to start the show. I began looking around for the people we needed: our friend who was to marry us—check, my mom (and maid of honor)—check, Adam’s best man—check, and Adam…where was Adam? The room started to spin. I saw a sea of faces but not the one of my fiancé. An ounce of panic started to boil in my stomach. And then at that very moment, I heard “God Only Knows” by the Beach Boys (our intro music) replace the hum of the crowd. The room stopped spinning, and at the center, right in front of me, was Adam. Our eyes locked, and we both smiled a smile that I can only imagine happening again when we hold Madeline in our arms for the first time. Maybe I’ll have that “whoa” moment when she’s born and we lock eyes for the first time. Oh god, I can’t wait.
