The Living Arts: Nurturing

Bridget writes: My new baby, my third and probably last child, is almost six months old.  I have only had the honor of calling her mine for mere months, but Nayana and I have a history that goes back years before the quiet October night when I held her fresh, slippery body in my arms for the first time.  Back before my two boys were no more than wishes in my heart, whispers foretelling a girl in our family would come to me in times of solitude.   

Jaimmie writes:  When my husband asked what I wanted for my first Mother's Day, I told him I wanted to go camping.  So we packed up too much gear and our nearly one-year-old baby and headed out to nearby Kettle Moraine State Forest.  It was cold and rainy at night and the gravel-covered site was swarming with biting gnats during the day.  With the baby in the sling, we hiked trails that were buried under increasingly large, swampy puddles until the marshes and the mosquitoes compelled us to turn back.  Of course, we had a splendid time.

Pamela writes:    Whenever I think about my four granddaughters, all born between Michaelmas and Easter, I smile with deep joy and pleasure. Who would have thought that I would have the priceless opportunity to relive the wonders of birth and babyhood, to share in those seemingly moment-to-moment miraculous transformations as each of them has developed into healthy young girls - now 8, 6, 6, and 6. I have also rediscovered my own childhood from a new perspective as a grandmother, reminding me of my very first Anthroposopohical read back in 1972: A.C. Harwood’s The Recovery of Man in Childhood. Although it is a close call, in some ways, love is really lovelier the second (generation) time around...if nothing else, there is a bit more breather space for observation and a few less sleepless nights!

A few weeks ago my son, Elliot, won a goldfish.  Actually, he got two.  Grandma was concerned that his living prize might not make it through the day and so she made sure that he received another.  Elliot named his new pets Fred and Jingo, and was very excited about the new additions to our family.  Little Fred seemed a bit lethargic as Elliot packed his overnight bag and headed to granny's.  “He's laying down,” Elliot explained to grandpa.  Shortly thereafter Fred passed away and papa sent his limp, orange body back to the river.  And so it was that little Fred gave Elliot his first real experience of mortality.