Six years ago in the wake of the worst tragedy my family had ever experienced, my then-baby crawled for the very first time.
I was surrounded by chaos, by heartbreak, by faith.
Faith is her middle name.
And she pushed up on her knees and rocked back and forth and I can still see the pink and white romper she was wearing as she inched across my grandmother’s immaculate carpet now marked with the tracks of ministers and cousins and neighbors.
It’s a memory that’s etched into my heart and always in the back of my mind when I look at her now all skinny knees and elbows and mischievous grin. I can’t help but wonder if I would remember this milestone if it wasn’t framed in grief.
Why do I sometimes let the smallest, sweetest moments get lost in the worry and the pain and the fear?
The world as I knew it had just ended, but she crawled across it anyway.
For all my posts in this 31 Days Embracing Motherhood series click here. There will be no post for yesterday since I spent it with my family in quiet remembrance of the life of one we loved.