A few simple things.

My mama visited this weekend. Held Matilda, read to the girls, helped me organize. She also planted my garden for me along with my sisters, Hannah, Miriam and Naomi. Nothing could be better or more significant than a pod of women working with the earth, dirtying their hands, growing something together. And not 3 weeks after the birth of our newest girl: growing, sprouting, 11 pounds already.

Their absence leaves me full, and partly empty. Taking care of my own daughters, teaching them how to be a good sister and daughter, and hoping I can be a better mother as time passes. Trying to understand space and time, how my mother's own children were born and we became people, adults. That inevitable is looming in front of me--- aging, memories fading, the girls' giggles echoing off different walls in a different house. They will be older then. Tall and dark haired, like their sisters. Molded into something almost unrecognizable.

Mothers cling onto memories and joy and people they love. We never really change from the girls we used to be. My mother finds complete satisfaction in seeing us happy and healthy. I realize that's all I really want for my girls, just a few simple things. And that they may always share that joy with me.