Seeds and Buds and Flowers

One of the first things I saw on Saturday morning was the beautiful face of a new born baby on my Instagram feed. His mother held him close, her joy filled the frame. I felt tears begin to well up in my eyes. Tears of joy. Tears of remembering.

I scrolled to the next photo in the feed and there was a high school graduation scene....a different mom friend posting a moment in her life ~ another that I remember from my own. And a tear fell across my cheek.

The house was quiet, coffee brewing. I was the only one awake. Alone with these images and my thoughts. My two, grown and flown, had once been babies in my arms, teens in cap and gown. Moments, scenes ... flashed through my heart. And I settled easily into the comfort my memories bring.

I love my mom memories. From the lego and barbie mom, to varsity soccer mom and mother of the bride. The journey from seed to bud to blossom, with each of my children, has been sweeter than sweet. So unexpected. It's a journey still full of staggering, marvelous twists and turns. We travel over well manicured paths, run freely across wild, wide open meadows and hold hands through thorny patches. Always have. Always will.

But as I sat with my Instagram feed on a quiet Saturday morning, I think it was that heart connection with fellow mom journey-women that  moved me to tears. As moms we know that first-breath moment. And all those catch-your-breath moments. We can rejoice together and mourn together, struggle together, giggle together and share that five o'clock glass of wine together. Even through a blog entry or a tiny phone screen...sharing in a far away last-day-of-school or receiving a prayer request from a woman who's hands I've never actually held....I experience such a strong connection to the hearts of other moms.

It's an honor to walk with my fellow gardeners.
It's important to me that they each be treated with respect. With care, encouragement, generosity...and respect.
With each photo, phrase, event or emotion we share with each other, we extend an invitation into our hearts. Our homes. Our parenting.

My prayer, as I scrolled back to that new baby's beautiful face, was that we would learn together. That all of us who share in this ever expanding, virtual village would take great care with this honor of inclusion. That we would take great care to treat our fellow journey-women well. Oh, so very well.

Here, in this most tender of places...that place that is the heart of a mom....may we hold each other to a golden standard.

THAT golden standard.

Doing unto other moms...as we would hope they would do unto us.

{linking with Project 52, Just Write and Memories Captured}