Twenty-seven years ago today, I became a mother; and I ponder the years. Like most mothers of new mothers, mine told me: “You will never stop being a mother.” I have known few greater truths. The physician may have cut the cord that was seen, but no one can cut that which is unseen.
The cord cannot be broken.
Yes, there is a time for every season – a time to nurture, a time to train, a time to instruct, a time to protect.
The cord cannot be broken.
There’s a time to step back, a time to let go, a time to love from a distance and watch them run their race.
The cord cannot be broken.
The phone is silent as birthdays and holidays come and go; there may not be flowers on Mother’s Day; and when words come, the exchange is unpleasant.
The cord cannot be broken.
As life unfolds, there is a time to rejoice, a time to pray, a time to step back in.
The cord cannot be broken.
For how can one who has brought someone into the world watch without encouraging and restoring if possible?
The cord cannot be broken.
How can one who encourages others to hope not instill that same hope in your own?
The cord cannot be broken.
Mothers must pray for wisdom – whether inexperienced and twenty something or mature and fifty something.
The cord cannot be broken.
Through life’s joys and life’s sorrows, health and cancer –
The cord cannot be broken.
The most comforting words of all may simply be “this too shall pass” or we can “laugh at the days to come.”
The cord cannot be broken.
The cello and piano seem to eloquently express that which I cannot – and I now have peace and hope.
The cord can never be broken.
“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always,
As long as I’m living my baby you’ll be.”
– Robert Munsch
I love that, Debbie! Absolutely precious–and true!