As a lullaby, I often sang "Away in a Manger" to my daughter and not just at Christmas. It was the only song I could sing on key and the melody is slow enough that I could do it with nary a croak and even whisper it softly when necessary. Of course, she has no memory of this but in the car last week, she turned the volume up during a beautiful Julie Andrews' rendition. "I just love this carol", she said looking at the dark road ahead as she drove me home from our Christmas shopping trip. I told her I used to sing the carol to her as a babe but said nothing more about it. I have to temper my "Mom" memories because they can be so ridiculously sentimental and sappy and I don't want to overwhelm her - she's young and practical and cannot yet know the strong feelings a new mother has for her baby. They'll be plenty of time for that when she has a child of her own. I have no doubt...
My daughter was born three weeks early on a crystalline Epiphany. Our holiday out-of-state company had stayed until that very eve and when they departed, I thought how nice it was that I still had three weeks to pack a bag for the hospital, launder the new baby clothes we received for Christmas, and cook and freeze some meals. Best laid plans cannot trump a baby that wants to be born.
It was an icy and blustery ride to the hospital and every nurse that entered my room commented on the wintry weather outside the narrow slit of a window I had. Of course, the weather was of little concern to me but a frosty January night still has the power to tickle an internal thrill from that wondrous Epiphany.
And just as my daughter called recently for my grandmother's chocolate bread pudding recipe that I make every Christmas Eve, I know one day she will want to know the name of the lullaby I sang to her. And it will be an epiphany that nudges her - a sudden pleasant insight into something long past. I have no doubt...
No comments:
Post a Comment