Steven, minutes before proposing to me
I feel so whole in moments like this; my love for these two boys just doesn't differentiate itself into romantic love for Steven and motherly love for Gage - it's just perfect, whole, complete love. It's usually momentary and everything shifts back to normal after a few eternal seconds. Have you ever experienced this?
The same thing happens sometimes with my mom. I just sort of forget that she is my mother. Age and time and everything else fades away when we're on long walks, talking about everything and anything - she becomes my best friend and she becomes more youthful and I become more mature, and there aren't bounds on our relationship of parent and daughter, time and space; there is just love and trust and comfort.
My mom holding Gage for the first time
It makes me think about eternity; I believe that I existed before I was born as me, not as a random spirit or Betsy Ross or a tree... but as the essence of Brooke. And I know that I will live again after I die... as Brooke. And that Steven will be my Steven and Gage will be Gage and you will be you.
Not to get all philosophical, but I've been thinking about heaven so much lately. This little girl inside of me is on a direct flight to mortality, so to speak, and I want to make her transition to earth as natural as it can possibly be for her; I want my home to be like heaven, I want heaven to be in my heart. When she is placed in my arms, I want her to feel recognition. I've been here before, this is a safe place.
I want Steven to come home after a long day, and take a deep breath when he walks through the door; I want him to feel differently here than he does anywhere else. I want the transition from outside to inside to be so powerful that the feeling of love and acceptance is almost tangible. When Gage has a bad day at school, I want him to crave home. To know that when he gets off the bus and runs to the door, that I will be there with open arms, ready to keep him safe from the bullies and the owies and the dirtiness that he will inevitably come across as he grows up.
Sometimes it seems pointless, like when the walls of safety in our home come crashing down after angry arguments or even worse, icy silence. Or when the carpet becomes permanently stained red from an entire bucket of salsa being splashed across the floor, Jackson Pollock-style by an artistic two-year-old. Or when the days are so long that we don't see Steven until it's dark. Sometimes we're just like, why even try? Life is too crazy, it's too hard, we're too busy.
But the thing is, I don't think we are too busy to make our home a piece of heaven. It isn't the physical home, after all. Right? It's us. If we have heaven in our hearts, then we'll always feel that perfect love; not just for our family members, but for everyone. I know it's possible, and if I try hard enough and long enough, I know I can get there.