|Photo credit: Inside Nana Bread's Head|
My kids have an annoying habit of using their cell phones to videotape me unawares and when they play the videos back for me, I almost always have an apron on. Last Christmas, I was happily rolling out the cookie dough on the kitchen table and my daughter Mary was recording me as I was telling her the story of St. Juan Diego and Our Lady of Guadalupe. As I was sharing this spiritual story, my son Jack kept coming into the kitchen to snitch the raw cookie dough and I dramatically changed from kindly sharing my favorite story to yelling at Jack with a hearty "Get out of the kitchen and stay out!" And the whole family cracked up. I don't remember ever laughing so hard at myself before. The kids like to tease me by saying that when I die they are going to show that video at my funeral because seeing me go from a tender moment to yelling to laughing all within two minutes is how they always want to remember me.
These days, though, the thought of aprons and the attached strings with children hanging onto them often makes me feel a bit melancholy. With two young adult sons venturing into the real world, I realize how quickly the years pass and I struggle with the difficulty of letting go, trying to trust that they will hold onto the values that Paul and I have worked so hard to instill in them, but understanding that there is a very real possibility that they'll venture into paths that carry them far from home and from God. I'm not quite ready to cut those apron strings and let them go their own way. I want them to realize all of the hopes and dreams that I have held deeply in my heart for them. But, the only hopes and dreams that they need to find are their very own. It's a hard lesson for this mother to accept. Sometimes I wish they could stay little forever.
|Old St. Mary (photo credit: Badger Catholic)|
Here's a lovely little song from one of my favorite movies, She's Having a Baby, aptly titled "Apron Strings."