Mother’s Day

In the sitting area of my local large hair salon was a little girl of about one year of age. I sat down to wait for my hair stylist and watched as she navigated the tables and chairs on legs that were still a bit wobbly. Dressed in a pink and white summer dress, her tiny feet encased in baby sized Mary Jane's; she smiled at everyone with a big toothy grin that lit up her whole face. Babies smile as if their whole body and soul are beaming joy at you. There is nothing half hearted about a baby smile – no fake curve of the lips, no sneers – just exuberance and about eight teeth.
And it came back to me in a rush. I wanted to scoop her up and nuzzle her soft hair, inhale the scent of baby and bask in that siren smile. I remembered my babies, so perfect and adorable; bright eyed and looking out at the world with complete confidence as to just how much everyone must love them. I remembered falling in love over and over again. Little hands and feet, wobbly legs and sloppy kisses. First words and chortles of laughter. The memories warm my heart and fill me with gratitude that somehow Andy and I brought three beautiful babies into the world. I've watched them grow and their smiles still melt my heart.
I am a fortunate woman to have been so blessed.
For the first time, the notion of being a grandmother someday doesn't feel too surreal.