Motherhood

A Field of Dreams – The Maternal Version

 

When my daughter was little she would hug me a million times, anytime we had to go our separate ways. Me to work. Her to daycare, school, a birthday party, grandparent visits. Sometimes tears would flow, hot and fast. She’d become a streaky red ball of snot with golden hair. She’d grab my neck and wrap herself around me like a kudzu vine.

Then 4 becomes 6. I’d get a pat. A peck. A one handed squeeze. 6 turns to 10. Air-kisses are slung over her shoulder. Because she knows I like them. Fingers wave while she says, “I’ve got to go”.

The teenage years came over night. Peace signs are flashed. Knuckle bumps are offered as she bolts from the car. Hugs around the neck are followed by a request to go roller skating. Kisses are saved for bedtime. At home. Where no one can see. I know she has to let me go a bit. I know I have to let her go, too. But as each year passes, I never feel ready.

Recently, work carried me out of town for a week. Back home, I sat on the bed. Staring at a suitcase in need of unpacking.

And then there was a weight. Across my lap. I’d almost forgotten. Warm breath on my legs. Hands tucked under her cheek. As if a butterfly had landed on my nose, I froze. Because I’ve missed this. The curling up. The curling into. The teenager who’s all elbows and knees disappears and a little girl takes her place. One who’s not too big for my lap. One’s who’s not too embarrassed to say “I missed you”. One who knows that the quickest way to get to your Mamma’s heart is to lay your head in her lap.

I just sat. She snuggled in. The suitcase can wait. That’s when I had a “Field of Dreams” moment. If I build it ~ she will come. If the lap is there. Waiting. She will find it. I have to sit still a moment. For laps aren’t created by a body on the move.

Here’s to taking a moment and making a lap no matter how big your kiddos are.

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  • Stephanie
    March 14, 2013 at 1:30 PM

    This made me tear up! So beautifully written! Being a mother is such hard work, your heart is ripped open every day.

    • Lisa Waszkiewicz / Franny Bolsa
      March 14, 2013 at 11:35 PM

      It does get ripped out. And ripped up. But it gets hand back to you at least 7 times larger.

  • kate
    March 14, 2013 at 9:10 PM

    My daughter is at the “infinite amount of hugs and kisses stage” (for the most part…she is 21 months after all). Your sweet post had tears welling up at the thought of these abundant hugs and kisses not lasting forever.

    • Lisa Waszkiewicz / Franny Bolsa
      March 14, 2013 at 11:37 PM

      They may bot be given so freely forever but the good thing is they are always there. Just a wee bit below the surface. Build a space and a moment for them and they fall like rain. Soak up ’em up while they’re infinite. Then be ready to squeeze them out in few years. Thanks so much for reading. I always feel a tad bit bad for making tears well up 🙂

  • Angelica
    March 15, 2013 at 12:31 AM

    So beautiful. I will remember this everyday! Thank you for reminding me to stop long enough to let the moments I will treasure happen 🙂

    • Lisa Waszkiewicz / Franny Bolsa
      March 15, 2013 at 6:16 PM

      “wuv, twue wuv… that blessed event we all tweasure”. Name that movie! Remembering to stop is the hardest part, Especially when life pushes us to go so fast. But how lucky we are when we throw on the brakes.

  • Ms. Booty Homemaker
    March 22, 2013 at 1:05 AM

    Oh, Lisa. You were one of the first to know I was going to become a mother when I shared it with a few…. and you’ve been there leading the way. I also wrote today of letting go, and holding on. From another angle you’ve experienced previous also. Lots of love to you, and keep writing. XXX

    • Lisa Waszkiewicz / Franny Bolsa
      March 25, 2013 at 7:34 PM

      Ms. Booty; I remember that day well. You sat in my office, a bold red scarf knotted up all fancy-like in your hair – and you just glowed 🙂 Thank you for your sweet words. And while you’re holding on and letting go – know that I hold you close every day. I wish you peace in the letting go and mad love crazy celebration in the holding on. I have line-backer sized shoulders and they are yours if you need to lean on them. Much love to you my friend.