hard conversations.

i was planning on today being a humorous post.  a “funny friday,” if you will.  however, i’m pushing that post for another day.

life’s like that, you know.  you intend your day to be one way… but it turns out another.

(or are they just my days? eh… probably not. 😉 )

this subject of this post is actually a couple of years in the making… beginning after two friends of ours passed away in a bus accident.  their passing began the beginning of many discussions between my husband and me.

you know the ones… those hard, uncomfortable, “morbid” conversations.

what would happen to your kids if something happened to you.  what we should do, if suddenly one of us were to become a single parent.

it was in a conversation like this that i told my husband that if anything ever happened to me, of course, i’d want him to remarry.  i’d want my babies to have a momma, and i’d want my husband to love again.

but even as those statements were leaving my lips, the thoughts followed: “no one could love them like me.”

and that’s true.  but only partially, i think.

because when you think about it, you can “love” someone again.  people date and love and move on to love the one they marry.  people marry and love and get divorced and move on to love and marry again.  people marry and love and a spouse passes and they grieve and then they move on to love and marry again.

so, in actuality, my husband could be loved like i love him.  not quite the same.  there is no identical love…

but the relationship? the husband/wife relationship?

that is, i guess we can say… replicatable?

but a mother/child?

the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced that no one can love my kids like i love them (outside of our Father, of course).  i could be wrong, and maybe i am… but think of it this way.

you really only get one momma.

that momma can come in a lot of forms: through biology.  through adoption.

however you have yours, she is the one who sacrificed her sleep for you.  her tears for you.  maybe her own personal ambition for you.

she’s the one who worried relentlessly when you had a fever.  or your first break-up.

she’s the one who cried when you did, and placed those weeds that you brought into the house in a little dixie cup and put them on the window sill.

she’s the one that embarrassed you with her affection in jr high and asked you what you had for lunch every day she didn’t have it with you.

she’s that one.

recently, we received some poor news about my own mom that has caused me to think about this even more.

for it dawned on me for the first time that if i believe no one can love my kids the way i do, than no one loves me like my mom does.

oh sure, we’ve had our spats.  what mother/daughter combo hasn’t?

but despite any disagreement, no one loves me like my momma.

and when you see your momma need you as much as you needed/need her, you can’t just sit there and do nothing.

that’s why i’ve started a GoFundMe account for my momma.

screen-capture

if you have the time, please read her story.  if there is anything you can do–pray, give– we’d be most grateful.

if nothing else, please do me this small favor?

if you still have your momma, the next time you see her, give her a big hug and a kiss…

and thank her for caring for you like no one else could.

 


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