When she was handed to me, a shriveled pink crumple swaddled in white, with her father’s eyes and mysterious red hair, I was sold. It was then that I began dreading the arrival of mid June. It would be only eight short weeks, one day after her Baptism, that then I would have to leave her.
I returned to that place, where accomplishment, pay and plaques were awarded, and I felt empty. I had left my heart behind, and the newness of motherhood ached within my chest, a constant reminder that I was in the wrong place.
Typed out letters were submitted in December, and she asked, “Well, surely you will stay until after the holidays to help cover the vacations already scheduled?” And I nodded. And smiled. And without hesitation, and to her bewildered surprise, I firmly said no.
It was freeing to take those steps out that door. I was going home. To my daughter. Right where I belonged this whole time. The journey that had been halted was now rightfully continuing.
It was then that I read, voraciously. Searched and discussed continually. The list of countless questions formed, and I tentatively and prayerfully meandered through my queries. It was with lots of trembling that we humbly embraced and embarked on this path. This lifestyle that we were falling into was not based on one single component. It was not hinged solely on religious, financial or political reasons, nor was I arrogant enough to believe that I could do it better.
No, far from it. I simply trusted and in my mother’s heart knew that this was the better option for my family– a viable, loving, catholic education.
It was soon discovered through the ebbs and flows of parenting, that the seam of mother and teacher would become undetected. As it should. For it is nothing more than the natural extension of parenthood. This forging of a deep attachment to my children’s hearts, the laying of a thick foundation of one’s self, the navigation of friendships and disappointments, the ability to witness the living out of the vocation of marriage and motherhood exclusively, and to experience the patience and grace of the Father in all of his perfections. This—This is what I want them to learn.
And we are home.
In all of the glorious, scattered, and muddy mess of life–Gathered together.
And there He is also.