Friday, May 10, 2013

Jenny

There are times when I lay in my bed at night, and I just listen. You know what I hear? My babies and my sweet husband snoring. He is a beautiful man, the one I married. I am grateful, daily, for him. I sometimes wonder if he knows how much I thank our God for the daily kindnesses he shows.

He recently told me a story. His mother remarried when he was 14 years old. She had his baby brother, Reese, right after Trever turned 15. He was relating to me the times he got into trouble. (And I think you know what I mean when I say "trouble", because it really wasn't. What it meant was, his mother scolded him with words, but wasn't really mad at heart.)He said there were time his baby brother, about a year old, would wake up in the middle of the night, crying. And Trever (then 15, remember?) would get up, go get him, take him into his bed, and cuddle him to sleep.

In the morning his mother would scold him, tell him that Reese needed to learn to go to sleep on his own. But I know Jenny. If Trever were REALLY in trouble, much more than a reprimand would have occurred.

I am a mother myself now. I can imagine (though, I suppose, I may be wrong in my conclusions) what Jenny might have been thinking to wake up and discover her one year old snuggled in with her 15 year old. The mingling frustration and sweetness that occurs when you, as a mother, see the baby you'd like to train to sleep through then night with his teenage brother who loves him. How can you REALLY be mad about that??

Trever was not thinking about all this when he related the story to me. But the whole silly thing made me fall in love with him all over again. Because that is the man I married. The one who gets up in the middle of the night and snuggles our babies to sleep. The tenderhearted, wonderful man I have had nine beautiful babies with.

And for these reasons, and many others, I am eternally grateful to my mother-in-law.

Thank you, Jenny.

You may not have realized, back then, that you were helping to make a tender, beautiful father.

But you were.

And every night I see him rock one of our babies to sleep, I ask God to bless you.

I love you.

Happy Mother's Day.

With love,
~amy

No comments:

Post a Comment

Your kind thoughts...

Follow by Email