I take in an obscene amount of magazines. They arrive in droves the start of each month and I will say most of them get read cover to cover… eventually. I’ll never forget my husband Matt’s face the first time we went out of town together and he picked up my carry-on bag for the flight.
“Mollie, what in the world do you have in this?”
“My magazines, why? Is it heavy?”
This morning I woke up early thrilled to find the April 2017 digital issue of House and Garden UK in my inbox. As I was reading the Editor’s Letter I was struck by a seemingly banal line:
“Houses need flowers. Growing up, my mother arranged flowers for parties, and having flowers in the house – whether it be pots of hydrangeas … or a simple vase of roses and blossoms on the kitchen table – has always been important to her, and therefore to me.”
It was the last part that I needed to re-read again, “…has always been important to her, and therefore to me.”
It got me thinking…
Where in my life does my mother end and where do I begin?
What part of “me” is me?
Where do I start?
This was not the start of one of those existential crises that teenagers sometimes rebelliously go through in their quests to find themselves. This was one of wonderful realization that perhaps, “Oh, Thank you, Jesus” perhaps A LOT of me IS her!
Furthermore to think that in July I will have a baby… and perhaps one day he will write a line about how something is important to him because it was important to “her.”
And I will be the “her.”
Oh, I pray I only pass on the best parts that were given to me.
As I spent the rest of my quiet morning flipping through the magazine when I would come to a picture or an article that was particularly delightful to me I would lovingly stop and think: these words or this scene would be beautiful to her, and therefore to me.
I can’t wait to show Jack this world… just like my mama showed me.