Deep Thoughts

Being a Mom is Awful

Grey’s Anatomy is one of my all-time favorite shows. I’ve watched every episode of every season, many episodes more than once. The writing is the best. There have been so many moments when I felt like the writers were in my heart or brain, grabbing my own words and feelings.

Tonight was no exception. The main plotline involved two 8-year-old boys finding a gun in the home, with one of them being seriously injured. The residents and doctors fought to save the boys’ life and help the other not to forever blame himself for hurting his friend.

As sisters Meredith and Maggie (who live together and raise Mer’s kids after her husband’s death) walked out of the hospital after their shift, Maggie began crying and they had this conversation:

Meredith: What’s wrong? What’s wrong?
Maggie: I don’t know how you do it, Mer.
Meredith: Do what?
Maggie: Love your kids like this. I really love them.
Meredith: They love you too.
Maggie: No, I love them like – if something happened to them, I would die. My heart is so wide open and they’re so fragile. I don’t know how you live like this. I don’t.
Meredith: It’s awful.

Yep, it’s absolutely awful. It’s the hardest thing about being a parent. The love is almost too much too hold sometimes. When you say, “I’d give my life for them,” you mean it literally and with every fiber of your being.

It reminds me of this quote I heard years ago and has always stuck with me:

“Making the decision to have a child – it is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body. ”
― Elizabeth Stone

Yep. It’s absolutely awful. And I wouldn’t change it for a thing <3

Deep Thoughts: And It’s Just Like That

Photo by:  Silvestri Matteo

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about an older person in my family, a remarkable woman. I feel guilt for not making more time to spend with her because, as they say, she won’t be around forever.

I’ve been thinking about why I feel guilty – familial obligation? No, it’s not that. It’s that I’m missing out on some finite time, time that I won’t be able to spend with her . . . “when I have time.”

I’ve been thinking about why I adore her so much, why I think I should be hoarding time with her, why I’ll weep when she goes.

I’ve been thinking about the shine in her eyes when she sees my family, the hearty laugh, the love of books we bonded over, the instant embrace into her family when I joined the club.

I’ve been thinking about how it must feel to be near the end of your life and knowing, to the bottom of your soul, that you did this thing well. You lived every moment. You loved deeply. You forgave. You laughed. You moved on.

I’ve been thinking about how I’ll want to be remembered when I pass on.

And it’s just like that.