We went home to Louisiana for Mother's Day weekend. I hadn't been home since Thanksgiving, and it was good to be there with my mom. Trevor and I were able to take Friday off, and Nathan didn't have school (thank you FFA holiday) so it turned into a long weekend with my family.
We actually celebrated on Saturday because we generally try to get on the road as soon after church on Sunday as possible. We like to be able to unwind a bit Sunday night before resuming our normal lives on Monday. We had lasagna and salad for lunch, and finished it off with an incredible tiramisu that Amber made. Both Grannies were there, as well as Aunt Gail and Uncle Chuck. I really enjoyed sitting around the dinner table joking and laughing with the people that I love best in the world.
My favorite picture of the day was of Gracie, me, Mama and Granny. Four generations of women (well, 3 with a woman-to-be). This picture represents my heart. It represents who I was, who I am and who I want to be. It is my past, present and future.
These women have loved me, ministered to me and taught me what it means to give. They have been there through the good times and the bad. They are the ones I turn to when I can't speak my sorrow and when my heart is overflowing with joy. They are strong, unique, intelligent women who live their lives for Christ and I love them unconditionally.
I love the men in my family just as much, so I don't mean to exclude Nathan or my Dad here, but there is something that goes on between women that men will never understand. There is a kinship that goes beyond family ties or even friendship. How else do you explain the dressing room phenomenon? We've all been there. We go shopping without a girlfriend or sister, and we are suddenly struck by indecision. We ask the nearest female for her opinion because we know that we can trust a total stranger to tell us if we need a different size or a new outfit altogether.
If we trust total strangers to help us with our fashion choices, how much more do we trust the women that we know and love? It defies explanation or logic, but there is a bond. It is especially apparent between mothers, and it transcends race, religion and political affiliation. We all have that almost visceral need to protect and nurture our children, and by extension, the children of others.
My prayer is that in 20...40...50 years from now I will have similar photographs with Gracie, my granddaughter and great-granddaughter. I hope that they will all see me in the same light that I see my mother and grandmother. I can think of no greater legacy.