Yesterday was Magoo’s First Holy Communion. She has been so excited about it for so long. As we got to the church, however, she got really quiet. I think she was nervous and perhaps a bit overstimulated.
Time eventually counted down, and the next thing I knew, she was proceeding down the aisle with her class, then kneeling to receive her first Communion, ad then we were all singing the processional song.
The next twenty or so minutes were chaotic as the kids had to stay with their class to take pictures. But eventually, they were set free.
I saw her veiled head bouncing through the crowd, and then I saw her look up. The second she caught my eye, her whole expression changed.
She was elated.
Even though she is almost eight and doesn’t hold my hand all that much anymore, we held hands for the next twenty minutes. Off and on she would squeeze it and she would look at me and squeal. Her little body unable to contain all the excitement that it held. Her grin saying what her words couldn’t make audible.
And each and every time, a shock of elation would shoot through me.
Yes, she was excited.
Yes, I was proud of her and happy for her.
But what my mama heart felt most through all of this was the special time she was sharing with just me. The excited abandon that was reserved for just my ears and my eyes. The moments that we were quietly sharing in the middle of the throngs of people.
Halfway through the Mass, when she was walking back from receiving, she looked up and our eyes met.
She was looking for me. And she found me in the crowd.
And this brought me back to my own wedding day when I was standing on the alter, just finished saying my vows, and I looked out into the pews and I saw my parents. And I caught their eye.
There are so very many gifts motherhood gives to us. But for me, one of the most priceless are the moments that are saved just for us. The real truths our children show us. The ones they are too shy or reserved to share with the world.
Those moments are our currency. They are our proof that all of those hours rocking an infant and bandaging up knees and tell stories have created something real. Something even more real and more solid than the chair I am sitting on right now.
They have created the bond of mother and child. One that cannot be severed. One that cannot be broken. And one that makes even the most real of moments that much more alive.
So to my three beautiful little girls, thank you for giving me these moments. Thank you for trusting your hearts completely with me and for loving me with all the love you can hold. Thank you for seeing all you see in me.
And thank you for making me mom.
And to my own mom, thank you for being my face in the crowd all these many years. I still get excited when I see you grinning back.