To the pregnant women I know who are about to experience, for the first time, the slow blur of feeding a newborn night after night. To women, like me, who are closer than we’d like to be to releasing our little bees’ wings. And to women, like my own mother and mother-in-law, who have already let go.
Happy Mother’s Day.
How lucky are we to have — or have had, or about to have — a love like this one in Sharon Olds’ poem, First Thanksgiving?
This is one of my favorite poems about a mother’s love. The link to it above is for all you moms, and my lovely, loving and much-loved daughters.