When Womanhood Becomes

Women begin to come and go and I barely believe I actually am one of them.

Fifteen years of marriage and three kids in I feel like I’ve slid across some invisible line into a middle ground of sorts.  Not really young and twenty, and not really feeling the lean of the bend of fifty, rounding that half way mark to one hundred.  Silly as it may sound, I see myself like that picture of your mother holding you in footie pajamas, perched on the edge of darkest brown couch.  Small, square, boxy picture with a slightly yellowed haze paused over it.  You know the one I’m talking about?  Well, just the same, it’s how I see myself.  Only slightly worse posture.

11-30-2012 03;50;51PM

Oh, my.

I believe that’s my mother.

Crown of brown hair cropped short and teeth straight, white, and full! A picture of a woman meant to right perch babies on her knee.

I wonder if she felt the switch to woman from girl at that moment?  Or if it all just happened and somewhere down the line you stopped slurping soup, looked up, and believed you might actually be that woman in the picture.  The one that knew she was doing the role of motherhood because that’s what she was meant to do!

And it takes a woman to be a mother. No matter when you begin.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.