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umbrellas and mothers

Cleaning up a few things in my computer and I came across something I wrote 11 years ago...maybe someone, a mom,

can find something here to ponder...

It was an eerie dream – pieces of my past all tumbled together ending with me standing in the rain trying to get my daughter where she needed to be.

The symbolism here is uncanny – me, spending much of my life holding “umbrellas” over my children, stepping in puddles and trying to avoid downpours all the while trying to point them towards the light, to a place where they belong and are flooded in sunshine. I, and all the moms I know, do this, we “stand out in the rain” and are relentless warriors when our kids are involved. We never stop, no matter how many tears are spilled, disappointments are dealt, frustrations and discouragements converge and sometimes slow us down, but never stop us, only our last breath can do that – my mother told me this when my first child was born: “From the time he takes his first breath until you take your last, he will never leave your mind”.

I keep the “umbrella” near the door and, tired as I might be or doubtful as I must feel, I open it each day because I know each day a little rain will fall somewhere. This is the essence of my dream and this post is the manifestation of its message. Thankfully, the sun is shining as I write .



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