Mom wasn’t very sentimental. After her death, I collected my baby pictures, which were shuffled together with hundreds of other photos loose in a plastic storage box. Her best friend Catherine has also sent me copies of photos my mom sent her after my birth, and everytime I see a new snapshot it feels like hitting the goldmine. These images have been such a gift to me.
I don’t know that Mom ever looked as radiant and happy as in these photographs– all wide smiles with a brand new baby in her arms. The joy is palpable. Sleep deprivation must have really agreed with her.
These pictures are so precious because they are authentic. Of course, I don’t remember life as an infant, but from my first moments of awareness, I felt surrounded by her love. She had such a big heart, and adored me completely, without expectation or ridicule. I was always enough, just as I was. Of course, she had ambitions for her only child, but her love was pure, encompassing, constant. And from the first days to the last, we always felt the greatest happiness when we were together. Twin stars, shining brightest in each others presence.
I am so fortunate that from the very beginning I was fully embraced and appreciated. I pray that every child on Earth could know this kind of love.