I was at the delivery of Finnian Michael, December 15, 2008. What an amazing experience it is to welcome a little soul into this world. The roads were so icy, as there was a layer of snow/ice on the ground. At 2 am, we rode in Dale's truck up to Olympia as I held Angie's hand during her contractions. We arrived and everything was waiting for Angie from the bed to the tub full of warm water. I couldn't help but think back to Elisia's birth. There were so many options we didn't know we had during that time. But here, everything was about Angie and little Finn. At 6:09 am he was born into this world merely inches from my right hand. I saw his little eyes first and then his nose... The miracle of birth is definitely not aesthetically pleasing to the eye, but the experience of the souls that were in the room at that moment, awaiting the arrival of this little person was a phenomenal conglomeration of energy provided to wish him well as he starts his journey here. I don't believe I ever truly appreciated that notion when I had my boo.
I watched as dad and mom coddled and coo'ed at baby Finn, knowing that my time would come. (Selfishly I was hoping sooner rather than later. :-) And after an hour or so I held this little man in my arms. For he is not a new soul, but an old soul. His eyes are earthy, dark and tumultuous, but soft and healing... His little lips are ready to speak of the ages, and teach us the lessons of our ancestors. His perfect little ears are ready to hear what the earth is speaking, hear the chaotic call of the wind, or the softness of the rainfall - gliding down to kiss the grass.
I think of all the season past where magic had been absent. Or at least that is how it has felt for me since I was 15. Time passes, things change. As I looked around at our Christmas dinner table last night, it was weird seeing everyone. The little kids aren't little anymore. My nephews are 22 and 23, my nieces are 12-18. No little pitter patter of little feet. No crying, or fit throwing. Yet when I look into their eyes I still who they were and a glimmer of who they will become.
This Christmas season has taught me humility, and just how magical it can be. There are so many things I can be thankful for this year - which of course is probably why I am so thankful. Or, I have finally reached this stage in my own journey where I can treasure each moment as it happens and passes, I can see where I have come from and where I am going... It's never easy.
My hearts desire has changed. I feel because I have allowed it to. There was a time when all I wanted out of life was to be a housewife and a mother. After Patrick and I got together, and we both learned more about his birth defect, we realized that we may never have one together. At first I was pissed! How could this happen? Then I was sad... But I began to look at Elisia as such a blessing in our lives. She not only serves as a daughter to me, but to Patrick and her Bio dad Jesse and his boyfriend Dustin. Two men in our lives that would otherwise would not know the love of a child. And as I grow older and long to hold that little baby in my arms, the universe brings along these little tiny miracles for me to watch over, care for and cradle.
Yes, I am thankful this year. But not for the car or the gifts I have received. I am thankful for the baby crying, the dogs barking, our kitties playing, my nephews and nieces becoming adults, for the love that I share with my husband, and for the possibilities that are coming up in my future... I will step on the grass of Ireland, I will roam the hills and touch the stones... My journey out of the hole has ended and I see a path before me, I am thankful for the road I am walking for as narrow as it is, the way is clear and my footing is solid...
