My cousin wrote a post in which she apologized to her grown children for the hectic formative years when they needed her most. I remember her, however, as a very conscientious mother who was challenged with ending a failed marriage, carving out a career that would support her children, and moving on with life…for them and for her. Yet, you could tell that she somehow felt there was more she could have done to ease the transition for them…more time that was wasted doing things that ultimately didn’t matter. She wanted them above all to see that, through all those troubled years, she loved them deeply. I read the comments. Not a single person said, “Hey! Don’t beat yourself up over this. You did the best you could.” Not one. Instead, there were many mothers who identified with her heart. Looking back, every mother who loves her children thinks she could have done better, could have loved more openly, could have explained more, could have spent more time just playing with them. I am among those mothers. And, like my cousin, I want to give “a Christmas wish: For my children to know how much I really love them…then and now…and to know how the pressures of life have a profound impact on one’s ability to truly enjoy what is most important in life.” Thank you, Linda, for that beautiful post.
To my own grown children: I love you Jonna, Jay, Faith, Aaron, Rose, Grace, Marcelo, and Laureen. I wish you peace. I wish you bounty. I wish you much love. But most of all I wish you a full life in Christ.