I was granted another gift, free of charge, this weekend; the chance to spend the night with my favorite little girl. Yep. Callie was back for another overnighter. I love being with her for a few hour shots during the week but spending the night is always somehow bigger and better. It brings more hurdles because of that sleep thing that she hates but also more joy. The joy of having no time limits. The joy of strengthening our bond together. The joy of love and laughter that comes from way down deep. This visit was nothing but fun. We played together, hung out with the hens, ate together and played some more. She always brings back memories of my early mothering days. And that always warms my heart. I see pieces of my babies in her. This time it was the beauty of a hand print. In her zestful consumption of strawberries, a few tell tale marks were left on the wall. I was reminded of the beauty of my own children's hand prints on the walls of our home. I was never that mother that was bothered by them. It was a mark they were leaving on the world. I loved watching those prints slowly climb the walls showing the growth of my kids. And there was that funny little art activity that the primary teachers did with the hand print poem attached that showed up on several Mother's Days.
My Handprints
Sometimes I might upset you
Because I am so small
And always leave my fingerprints
on furniture and walls.
But everyday I grow a bit
And soon I'll be so tall
That all those little fingerprints
Will be so hard to recall.
So here's a special handprint
Just so that you can say
This is how my fingers looked
When I placed them here today
Somehow I automatically just wiped Callie's prints off the wall and the minute I did I was sorry. In a flash, the evidence of her being here was gone. I think that the next time she is here, we need to memorialize those little hands in a stepping stone so her mark on my world will always be with me. I will look at it and laugh, remembering those strawberry prints on the kitchen wall.
