...As a mother of four boys—two of them my own—I’m trying to need them in the way that Mum needed her flowers, in the way that she needed me when she got cancer. In the way that she would leave messages on my answering machines which consisted mostly of “umm,” and silence, and then “This is Mum …” Then, “I was wondering, if you’re not too busy, if you would … um…. want to watch a movie with me?”...
(Read this post in its entirety over at She Loves, today, friends? Thank you for love and grace, and for all of your wisdom shared at my post last night... how I need all of you, the church you provide.)
*linking with beautiful jennifer today
Loved reading this,Emily. I'm learning to collapse more.xx
ReplyDeletei love you dear jodi.
DeleteThis is perfect. For me it was my father. The things he said, and didn't say. The word pictures are beautiful, cutting e strings of fear and falling into one another. So so true.
ReplyDeleteoh anna. i ache for you....
DeleteOh Emily, my heart want to sit and sip a cup of tea with you and talk on this tender topic.
ReplyDeletehow i would love to do that with you, too, sweet friend.
DeleteBecoming a mother taught me how much I was loved by my parents, even though they have a hard time showing it. (darn those dutch woodenshoes) If they only loved me half as much as I love my son, it's enough.
ReplyDeletewhat a beautiful statement: "If they only loved me half as much as I love my son, it's enough." amen.
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