Tenderness
I went to bed last night after putting up my first blog. As I lay in bed next to my new husband, my mind raced through various thoughts to try to get to sleep. Did I shut all the lights off? Did I turn the heat down? Where's the cat? Tomorrow I have to do this, this and this before 4pm. At some point I thought of money and shopping for Christmas. I love giving gifts. In fact, I think as I get older, I love giving gifts even more than getting them, and I do love getting them. As I thought of this season and our current financial situation, a song popped into my head almost immediately:
This song, written and sung by The Wilkinson's was such a touching story of a Mother's love and sacrifice, and it just fit us. Mom and I have always been close, have always been best friends. She's the type of Mom you can talk to about anything, and she's the type that practices tough love, but loves unconditionally. She knew I was leaving for this job for many reasons, but ultimately I had to get away, to get my heart healed somehow.
As I pulled the moving truck away, she tucked a hanky in my fist. I felt that there was more to it than just the hanky, but was so stunned that she'd given me the hanky that I didn't bother to check it. You see, this hanky has been passed back and forth between the women in our family. It was my Grandmother's handkerchief, complete with pretty scalloped edges, red hearts all over it, with white in between. We never got to meet Margaret Goldsmith; she died when Mom was 17. But this hanky has been one of the constant reminders in our family of the impact this woman had on my Mom's life. Somehow, with the delicate fabric and its' pretty pattern, the consistency with which it's been around and the peace it's brought to us is like a symbol of the character that Grandma possessed, which inspired my Mom to live her life in the same manner. This hanky has wiped tears of grief from heartache and death, tears of joy from birth and celebration, and everything in between. Now it was mine to use, I couldn't belive it!
I put it ever so gingerly in the cup holder on the dash, that way I'd see it the whole way there. As I got rolling, I took that hanky and opened it to reveal some travel money along with a penny-for my thoughts, a quarter-for the call, and all of my Momma's love. The tears came.
Last night, as those words raced around in my head, those tears came right back. I thought of leaving my Mom this time around. Lots of changes have taken place. Hearts have been healed, Jesus has renewed and restored, our priorities are shifted, relationships have evolved, I've gotten married, Mom's getting ready to retire, there are 2 more grandbabies in the family, the list goes on and on. So much has changed, but our bond remains solid.
My heart was hurting as I lay there in bed, thinking of all we've been through and the countless memories we share. It was as if I was back in time, stepping into that truck, half excited and half sad, but the sad part winning. I put my hand on Jeff's head, just so I could touch him, feel him next to me, his warmth and his life so close to me. I just needed that touch. He asked if I was ok. "No." "What's the matter?" I tell him my sadness and he reassures me that she'll be ok, that she'll visit and I'll visit and "she's a good woman", validating my feeling sad about leaving her.
Then he did something that made it all ok. He placed his hand on top of mine, and just held it. So there we were, lying in bed with both our hands on his head, feeling the sadness winning. It was just the reminder I needed of why I married him, why I was following him to Maryland and why God created him for me. Because the tenderness he gives me is just what I need.
This was a significant song for my Mom and I as I headed off to Connecticut for my first job as a Professional Nanny. The earth was thawing from a harsh winter, the trees were bleak and barren and the skies were still mostly gray. Our spring was missing that certain excitement, the feeling that good things are just creeping around the corner, that new life is coming. My heart was in pieces from an awful betrayal, and Mom's heart was also sad, but for 2 different reasons. Her beloved Uncle George had just died and now her baby girl was leaving, broken hearted and feeling hopeless."When you get lonely, call me anytime at all and I'll be there with you, always anywhere at all. There's nothing I've got that I wouldn't give and money is never enough. Here's a penny for your thoughts, a quarter for the call and all of your Momma's love."
This song, written and sung by The Wilkinson's was such a touching story of a Mother's love and sacrifice, and it just fit us. Mom and I have always been close, have always been best friends. She's the type of Mom you can talk to about anything, and she's the type that practices tough love, but loves unconditionally. She knew I was leaving for this job for many reasons, but ultimately I had to get away, to get my heart healed somehow.
As I pulled the moving truck away, she tucked a hanky in my fist. I felt that there was more to it than just the hanky, but was so stunned that she'd given me the hanky that I didn't bother to check it. You see, this hanky has been passed back and forth between the women in our family. It was my Grandmother's handkerchief, complete with pretty scalloped edges, red hearts all over it, with white in between. We never got to meet Margaret Goldsmith; she died when Mom was 17. But this hanky has been one of the constant reminders in our family of the impact this woman had on my Mom's life. Somehow, with the delicate fabric and its' pretty pattern, the consistency with which it's been around and the peace it's brought to us is like a symbol of the character that Grandma possessed, which inspired my Mom to live her life in the same manner. This hanky has wiped tears of grief from heartache and death, tears of joy from birth and celebration, and everything in between. Now it was mine to use, I couldn't belive it!
I put it ever so gingerly in the cup holder on the dash, that way I'd see it the whole way there. As I got rolling, I took that hanky and opened it to reveal some travel money along with a penny-for my thoughts, a quarter-for the call, and all of my Momma's love. The tears came.
Last night, as those words raced around in my head, those tears came right back. I thought of leaving my Mom this time around. Lots of changes have taken place. Hearts have been healed, Jesus has renewed and restored, our priorities are shifted, relationships have evolved, I've gotten married, Mom's getting ready to retire, there are 2 more grandbabies in the family, the list goes on and on. So much has changed, but our bond remains solid.
My heart was hurting as I lay there in bed, thinking of all we've been through and the countless memories we share. It was as if I was back in time, stepping into that truck, half excited and half sad, but the sad part winning. I put my hand on Jeff's head, just so I could touch him, feel him next to me, his warmth and his life so close to me. I just needed that touch. He asked if I was ok. "No." "What's the matter?" I tell him my sadness and he reassures me that she'll be ok, that she'll visit and I'll visit and "she's a good woman", validating my feeling sad about leaving her.
Then he did something that made it all ok. He placed his hand on top of mine, and just held it. So there we were, lying in bed with both our hands on his head, feeling the sadness winning. It was just the reminder I needed of why I married him, why I was following him to Maryland and why God created him for me. Because the tenderness he gives me is just what I need.
posted by Kelly | 3:50 PM
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