Unintentional

Sometimes I look at my kids and I wonder about all of the things they know that we don't realize.  I wonder what they see when they see me.  I know what I see when I look in the mirror.  I have all my little judgements that I make, my own ways of seeing my beauty and my flaws.  I see a person I have known for 31 years and I know her. 

But what do my children see?  They have known me for such a short time.  They missed the majority of the life that I have lived and they will only know those years through stories and history that they choose to retain.  To them, I am flawless...except for what they know that I don't know.  And they know things that I never think about, except in moments like this.  My mother's hands were the most important thing to me.  Next, was that comfy spot on her chest, just above her breasts, where I laid my head countless times.  Her smell.  Her voice.  The way her eyes crinkle.  The "look" that I got when she was disappointed in my behavior.  The gentle touch of her hands and the way that her whole body hugged me. 

I give these things to my children, without any comprehension of how they are recieved.  And honestly, I probably will never know.  I mean, I have shared with my mom, but she can never really get it.  How do you put into words that which is only a feeling?  A subtle knowing that doesn't have a word that can define it? 

When I am feeling down or when I feel like a stranger in this body, I think of myself through my children.  I imagine myself as their mother, I imagine how my hugs feel.  I open my arms and let them pile in, getting as close as they want.  I let them touch me - play with my face or hold my hands or tickle my feet.  I open myself up to them and learn who I am through them. 

These are the gifts of parenting that I cannot define.  They are the things that I give them because they are my children and for no other reason.  But in giving it, I gain knowledge.  I have known a love like no other every time my children fold themselves onto my lap and find comfort in my hugs.  I hope, with every piece of my heart, that they know they will always have a place there, on my laps with their heads on my chest.  I give them all of me, unintentionally, and I hope they learn what unconditional love feels like. 

And then, perhaps I will be lucky enough to see them use that knowledge in their lives.  Because I learned what unconditional love felt like from my mother.  I learned it from my gut.  There was no definition, just a phrase that described what I could only feel.  Yet, when I met Kelly, I knew I had found it in another woman and I gave her my heart without question. 

There are so many things about parenting that are like that.  I wish I had words to describe it so that someday, when the kids read this, they know what I'm talking about.  But, just like me, they are likely to never "get it" until they have have their own children.  There are some things that you just can't describe.  How I love them....that's one of those things I have no words for.