On Fridays around these parts we stop, drop, and write.
For fun, for love of the sound of words, for play, for delight, for joy and celebration at the art of communication.
For only five short, bold, beautiful minutes. Unscripted and unedited. We just write without worrying if it’s just right or not.
Won’t you join us?
1. Write for 5 minutes flat – no editing, no over thinking, no backtracking.
3. Most importantly: leave a comment for the person who linked up before you – encouraging them in their writing!
OK, are you ready? Give me your best five minutes on:
I remember holding my first child in my arms after three days of labor. I remember the sweat, the pain, the struggle and most of all, the joy of giving birth. The wonder of pushing that small baby girl right out of my own body. I remember the smell of her hair, the shape of her lips, the clutch of her hand in mine. I remember the love that swelled out of my body and right into hers.
I have experienced that wonder and joy nine times in my life. It has never gotten old. With each and every baby, my heart swelled even more. I learned that your heart just moves over and you become capable of more love than you even knew or imagined.
When I look at my children grown, there is a part of me that still finds that sweet, tender baby face in them. In my memory, I still feel the newness of them. The weight of them, heavy in my arms. The new-born baby smell that still lingers after all these years.
Today, I remember the birth of my grandchildren. The weight of them as I hand them to their mothers. The energy, the sweet baby cry, the first smiles, the lost shoes, the squishy hugs. Today, I have more new babies that push their way right into my heart, and wrap soft, small hands around my neck, to shower my cheek with sticky kisses. Still bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, pieces of my heart and children of my children.
And my heart swells with love and stretches big enough to hold them all.