I realize that one day I won't be the most important woman to my sons. The very thought breaks my heart just a little. My job is to raise these soon-to-be men into husbands who will respect women and love themselves. The person I am everyday of their lives imprints upon them the type of woman each of them will respond to, whether in a good way or a bad way.
In the frantic day-to-day bluster of life I do my best to hold them close to my heart. I forget sometimes to be gentle with my tone and patient with their needs. My three boys are each unique, so different from one another, so different from my husband and me and each requires a different type of understanding from me. I'm not always up to the task but my best is all I can give.
If only the depth of my love was enough to make up for all of my shortcomings.
On this day so focused on romance and love, my heart is filled with the days of sweet smelling infants and toddler kisses. I recall a poem from an obscure poet, Lois Jorgensen, who embodies motherhood that reminds me of those little guys.