It’s Mother’s Day and I wonder what I have written about before on this day. Forced expressions of gratitude and love? Sad stories about mother’s who have lost their children? I can’t remember.  And because two of my kids called early this morning, I didn’t get to this until my creative juices have been drunk, but I’ll give it a whirl.

So it’s spring, and it’s mother’s day, and I seem to be falling in love. I’ve always wondered if love at first sight was possible.  I’d certainly never experienced it before. Even though I was completely in love with my husband, it took some cultivating and nurturing to get there. It wasn’t the star-struck freeze-frame type deal the moment our eyes met.  I’d heard credible stories of it happening.  I’ve heard older couples, clearly devoted to each other, talk about meeting and knowing instantly s/he was the one. I sit and absorb these stories and wonder how they knew? Were they just more loving people? Did they have more loving upbringings? Were they more open to it?  Just lucky?

My experience of absolute and complete love at first sight happens when I guide that baby up to her chest. Her hands instinctively reach out to enfold that child, and her head tilts back with thanks and relief.  Ironclad dads weep and embrace and are overcome with the energy and love of it all. I wish I could bottle it. It’s a moment of purity.  Before sleepless nights, inexplicable crying jags, and tantrums color the tapestry, there is a moment when love is all that exists.