A common song I hear sung by so many mothers is one of restoration. For lifetimes we try to be strong, to shine a Brave face to the world letting nothing scale our hearts walls. And then they come, in the still of night & beneath the sun. These little hearts with their unconditional love, breath life into the dusty corners, the forgotten wounds & the empty places.
They see us to our core. And they love. We are sometimes crushed by the hard of motherhood, displaying tears of weariness. And they love. We work through attitudes that require discipline which breaks our heart. And they love. They see all of which we are, the radiant, the tired, the brave, the scared, the strong, the weak. All of the good & all of that bad. And they love. Unconditionally.
It is our bed they choose to snuggle in. Our arms they want to hold them. Our kisses needed to heal the boo boos. We are their favorite playmate & pastime. We are their everything.
And they are ours. More than we ever knew we needed. In every perfect way.