Today is also the day that I attended a funeral for a student's mother. She was 49 and died of cancer, leaving her 3 daughters - two in their 20's and a 17 year old - without their mom. It was a lovely service, very warm and with a strong feeling of fellowship and support for those three beautiful young women. I had expected to go to lunch with a friend and fellow attendee afterward, but I just couldn't wait to get home. The two eulogies given by my student's older sisters about their mother and the relationship they shared with her urged me homeward to my waiting daughter and mother, who was watching Livy. There was a graceful symmetry to coming home and wedging myself firmly in the center of our grandmother-mother-daughter triangle. It felt like where I belonged today. After a morning in which a crowded churchful of people tacitly closed ranks around three women in need, it was so satisfying to come home and close ranks with my mom and baby.
Now, I know it's a cliche for someone coming home from a funeral to recommend telling your loved ones that you love them while you can. But it's a cliche for a reason. So, do it. Emotional vulnerability is a bitch, no one knows that better than my crusty, self-protective self, but it's always, always worth the discomfort and risk involved in exposing your heart to those you love.
So, Mom, I love you. Thanks for being a great mother, and thanks for being a phenomenal grandmother to Livy. Thanks for being there today and getting me out the door, and thanks for being there when I came home a mess. You're the bee's knees, and now the whole damn internet knows it!
Love at first sight! Livy and Grandma, Day 1.
And, to cleanse the palate and save some face (I have no feelings. I HAVE NO FEELINGS!), here is what Livy looks like when I sing the Geico ringtone to her. That little Philistine LOVES that song.
And here is what we're doing with the rest of this gray day. I'm going to love on that baby hard today.
Snuggles, Snacks, Sofa: The holy trinity of a gray Seattle day.