Two marriages occurred in my circle of friends yesterday. The heart-warming, miraculous, “look at how awesome God is” types.
A dear girl birthed her firstborn. A grandmother was made.
Honeymoons were embarked upon with coy “Wouldn’t you like to know where” s, leaving to the imagination the most romantic destinations possible, as kids were tucked into bed and the sting of never experiencing a honeymoon once again reared its ugly head.
Of course it mattered.
A babymoon began with a sweet rush of postpartum adrenaline.
I wish I could bottle this feeling. I once said. Then I could just sniff it whenever I needed a boost. There is truly nothing else like it.
I never experienced a honeymoon.
I experienced eight babymoons to varying degrees. Note the picture above. That was my final babymoon with Little Mae. It was also my 37th birthday.
Last night my heart was full and my eyes were full and my body was tired and life went on.
Today as I process those happenings, I look to the future and glimpse redemption. For there will be a wedding this year WITH a honeymoon. There will be life continuing to go on. I’m not so sure about babies, yet, but in the words of my 5th child, “I just realized that you could be a grandma before too long. That’s a real life-changer!”
Yes, Dear Son, that it is.
And life goes on.