It’s Christmas Eve. A magical night when many parents are working their hardest to complete all the plans that they have put upon themselves to . . . be ready for what they hope will be memorable for their children in the morning. Memories don’t need to have huge price tags on them. Often times they are the most innocent of words and extra long hugs that radiate love. At the age of 73 I am just as excited for my children as when I was in my thirties and forties. Being a Mom never changes, it knows no age, it does mean boundaries. Just a step or two back . . . not too far . . . to let them be the adults that you take such pride in.
Being a “mom” has always been the greatest and most gratifying reason for being in my life. That’s not to say I have not stumbled a time or two and disappointed them. Each of us has an innate spirit within us to survive what comes to us and at us each day. Was it the best I could do at the time . . . I don’t have an answer to that as I cannot be objective. I do know that after the calendar pages have been flipped, the calendars have been replaced with current ones, I still am a mom to two amazing kids. Yes, they will always be my babies.
The baby born in the stable, the Christ Child, born just about this time, was born to save the world from all those like me who have a hard time being objective about ourselves. My babies were born to me as the greatest gift that God could present to me. They are my pride and joy. In their lives they may also need to fight with objectivity at times. I will always be their mom and they will always be my babies. How can Christmas come and moms not know why we rejoice in anticipation of being a family at Christmas time.