I had a conversation with a dear friend yesterday and we got to that raw place of knowing that in our most vulnerable human condition we simply want to belong…to someone, to be a part of something bigger than ourselves. When we don’t feel we belong, we begin to spiral…
Who do I belong to?
I belong to my 86 year old Mom. I am held in the most tender part of her heart, my little girlness, my life’s bumps and bruises, joys and celebrations, and every one of my birthdays belongs to her.
Who would have thought that I would feel lost and alone in a family of eight siblings? Lost in waves of sibling rivalry, and a sister with special needs, summed up benign neglect, not intentional just chaos of everyday living. I felt on the outside, out of touch, out of reach.
Now 53 years later I feel that I belong to this woman in a deeper sense than I ever thought possible. I understand so much more now… How she shared herself with all nine of her children, and she loved her husband so well, giving Dad the hugs she had left to give at the end of the day. I so get it now. I understand what it is to be loved by her in this deeply precious, tender place. Mom was always loving me, witnessing me, guiding me and protecting me as best as she could. I have always belonged to her…even when I felt on the outside and overlooked in my little girl years. I have been blessed all my life, even in my loneliness…I belonged to her.
I belong to my 86 year old Mom.