I never expected to be a mom. Bean, the eldest, was something of an act of God, a story that is too long and personal to relay in its entirety here. Bruiser, his younger brother, was a welcome addition to a brand new family, a blessing all his own.
Being a parent is weird, and hard, and frustrating, and wonderful. I never had any great desire to experience the range of emotions that comes with becoming a mother, and yet, on this side of it, I cannot imagine my life without either one of them in it.
Today, at the zoo, unprompted, Bean grabbed Bruiser’s hand to take him to see the gorillas, their heads bending together in some secret conversation only they can understand. I found myself tearing up, something I never did much before kids, as if I could see the years ahead roll out in front of me.
They are good kids, they are mine, and I am not sure how much responsibility I can claim for the former but I hope that the affection they have for one another, the kinship, doesn’t falter as they grow up, and, inevitably, apart. I hope I can be the mother I see in their eyes when they look at me. I hope for more days like today.
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