The legacy you leave, is from what you’ve received….everything your own mothers gave you (gran & all). Everything – by the sheer grace of God.
We sit across a warm table packing with raw ripe humor, trust, faith, candidness! We’re each a denomination of His Love, a major helping of His Mercy & Patience. I’m staring at the girls’ Wisdom: who taught them that. I’m staring at me – did I even know we’d have these babies grow so tall, strong, bold, fearless, tender? Lunch arrives in steam and gravy boat, and some. White little plate, lime tall glass.
Who taught these girls survivor skills; where’d we all get to be such buddies, Sharers of secrets of this Universe that can muddle us into zombies – yet here we are, on our seasonal Date, and the Empty Seat across Table, Chaired by Him Who gives us the one, die-hard, Eternal legacy there is – “His Kingdom, right here.” (On earth as is in heaven).
I’ve been thinking on the Lord’s Prayer these weeks. What a legacy, what a Prayer route. In the Original Aramaic, Jesus addresses, “Abba..” Personal. Daddy, mine, ours, binding us into Past, Present, Future. Tenses relax. Shoulders heave relief. Our Father, Source, Guide, Light
It’s the Base of what I’ve received, the one Truth I give my girls, and self. Not leaving the boys out; this is what the female state of mind subconsciously looks for: a Server of Justice, Love, Grace & Goodness – here we go & re-wire, start over, fill, then pour out.
So, garlic bread, (“Give us this day our daily bread, forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us… ” Daily Bread & forgiveness of Dues so close together!)
Looking across at these two beautiful young women I’m thinking of wars we’ve done together and individually. And how we each saw / see Grace in His Eyes – where we stand equals. Imagine this: in heaven there are no hierarchies, no mother or daughter, just the DNA of Him.
What can I say enough. We take pictures. The past hours have been thick with unedited sweet madness. Who taught them to make me ask them advise on this and that? What’ll tomorrow be; how can I say something they’ll cherish….?
“Your will be done…” My Ma would tremble. Dramatic? Now I know the comfort in those four Words. Say it from the depth of your core and you relax. It is surrender to Superior Intelligence. Nothing artificial. Here there’s the Arm that brought us this far. No coincidence, no trick of fate.
Our lunch goes to early dusk. I leave first, out the door into Church street across Brigade’s, then chat with a trinket seller. I tell her I’m with my girls on the other side of brick wall. Haha, nice. I get onto a step, peek across at them searching for me. Kit gets a sunflower from footpath vendor as she tries my number. Vih is muttering, I know, “She’d do this! Momyll – pranking again …”
I wave over the wall. The Trinket Seller sighs; barely 30, cold hard jaw. Another daughter of These days. We share a moment, the woman expands my little world. Why can’t I give her a hug, why can’t I think like a Momma with her? What’d Jesu do?
“Deliver us from evil…” From narrow walls and blindness to another. Help me/ us leave legacies wherever we are..Heart prints…in the pavements of Time.
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