“Why are we doing this?” She asks.
Her tone is sweet, soft, young. I pause to take it in, to take her in, and to carefully word my answer.
Fall’s crisp cools my fingers, a reminder of the season’s next turn.
Leaves melt off trees, framing my daughter’s silhouette as they drizzle onto browned grass. A patchwork of October’s finest gems. Reds. Oranges. Yellows.
I press the marker into her hand. “Because it’s important,” is how I start.
She wraps her slender fingers around the marker, grips it tight, leans in.
Her long locks slip over her shoulders and graze the board. They shine in the afternoon’s golden light.
She labors over her letters and I can tell by the squint of her eye and the bite of her lip that each etch is well thought out, and each feel is her own.
Almost a decade ago I spent fall afternoons inside, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The carpet beneath me rough, the baby in my lap soft.
I was a new mother in an Early Childhood Family Education class and my eyes were edged in all that braided those days together – tired and new and so, so very much to learn.
I sat shoulder to shoulder with other mothers. Our babies toddled and crawled and wove between us.
Their unsure steps and indignant cries, diapered bottoms pushed out and colorful toys grasped between pudgy fingers, threaded our New together.
The teacher sat in our circle, too. Her eyes were the deepest shade of fall’s brown, and she responded to our worries about sleep and milk and cries with warmth.
One night, Kayli pressed her knees into that carpet and one hand onto my knee, as she shook a rattle my way.
It was BIG in her hand and LOUD in my ears and I matched her BIG and her LOUD with my mothering words meant to fill every single space between us. That’s a rattle. So loud! It’s yellow.
Our teacher leaned in, touched Kayli’s back, lowered the rattle. She quieted our noise.
And holding onto jeaned knees with manicured fingers, she said, ”Everyone deserves someone who sees their good.” And one HeartBreath later, “It’s important.”
It so is, isn’t it?
She passed those words on to us, one mother to another. And we sat in her circle, enclosing her gift between us.
Today, through these words and these photos and this linkup, I’m honored to share the Good shoulder to shoulder with you, encircled in our own space with our own children weaving between us, our words filling the spaces in between.
Thank you for seeing our Good, I can’t wait to See yours.
One lucky linker will win a Signazon product of their choice. So join us this week, and make one of these, yours!
Our linky will be open October 15-19, the badge is in my sidebar, and you can find out more about Memories Captured here.
With that, let the linking and the swooning begin!