Great Aunt Arta Visits a Newborn Niece
Aunt Arta always came to see my newborn babies within the first week of their birth. She loved to strip them down and count fingers and toes and just stare into their precious faces. Recently I was going through that stack of dusty papers that almost topples over if you're not careful (am I the only one with those piles in multiple corners?). I stumbled upon this letter:
Arta described events better than I experienced them. I remember that last week of my pregnancy with Audra. I was so tired and preferred not to move. It had been a hot summer, I had too many slurpees (I was borderline gestational diabetic so not the best decision) and she was my only child that was born past her due date. She was quite a large baby and I blame the heat and 7 11, but truly perhaps there is no blame because she was perfect. Here are the pictures from Arta's visit 4 days after Audra was born:
Big brother Zack making sure Arta and Kelvin are gentle with baby Audra.
Big brother Gabe pointing out Audra's baby features.
Little did I know that the Fall of 2008 would complete our family of 5. Arta came to see each of my 3 newborn babies just as soon as she could. Just before their births and sometimes right after, should would give me the most amazing foot rubs and would remind me that I only got them from her if I was in a hospital bed (or close to it). I think my last foot rub from her was the day the two pictures above were taken.
Oh great Aunt Arta, what precious memories you've left me of your care, concern and love of people. I'm sure you cradle all the babies now, wherever you are.
Thanks. You warned me to grab a tissue but I wasn't prepared and i had a whole box. Just one tear, but it wouldn't stop running. Life is so grand. Thank you for sharing something precious to you. I must remember to write people letters. This is what is valuable in this world. Just love. Thats what fills us up.
ReplyDeleteBeautiful words from a loving great Aunt! I agree with Richard, we are in a family full of love and that is the best gift. All your kids are so small in these pictures and I loved the description of both boys and your family awaiting the arrival of Audra. Love you all so dearly!
ReplyDeleteI am grateful for your words, your post Marcia. I cant yet read Arta's letter or look too closely at the photos in case I too find a tear duct stuck open with no handle to close the faucet. I will save that close study for another day. Love stored for later.
ReplyDeleteDear Audra, Can you see in the photos that Great Aunt Arta dressed for meeting you? That shade of pink was one of her favorites. Can you see that her and Great Uncle Kelvin cannot look at your newborn self without awe escaping their mouths? Their mouths seem to be saying "oh" or "ah." Then the wonder travels up to their eyes and foreheads, as they try to absorb the miracle that is you.
ReplyDeleteHow come Richard got a pre-reading warning and the rest of us didn't. :-) Thank you for sharing this Marcia. F*ck I miss that special woman.
ReplyDeleteA poem for Kayle
ReplyDeleteIf my path
crossed your path,
and you had
a new babe
in your arms,
I would think
of my mother.
She was curious,
about each newborn she met.
She would hold out her arms,
and you would pass
that little one to her
without hesitation.
You might feel surprised,
But you might not.
For when she held a newborn,
She had a way about her.
Confidence,
curiosity,
love.
She would unwrap your little one,
right down to their bare skin.
She would
Get close
Every so close
To your child’s neck.
She would
Breath in deeply.
You would be
spell bound
like all
of the parents
before you.
She would study your child’s precious face.
She would count
each
finger
each
toe
and her eyes would dance.
If my path
crossed your path,
and you had
a new babe
in your arms,
I would think
of my mother.
I would think of you,
And your mother,
And mother earth.
I would breath in deeply.
I would be spell-bound.
~ Bonnie W Johnson
ouch. truth. word.
DeleteBeautiful Bonnie. Beautiful.
ReplyDeleteThank you Bonnie. So beautiful.
ReplyDelete