bread, wine and milk

Kristy Powell Photography

Almost exactly one year has passed since I walked back to my pew at St. Ann's after receiving the Eucharist wondering if the unleavened bread and (small sip of) wine were not only nourishing me but maybe also the tiniest of humans inside me. Later that afternoon I found out that I was pregnant. 

The true identities of a little poppy seed and a stale bite of bread hid inside of me. For the first time, miraculously and mysteriously, we all shared one body. For forty-one Sundays I cherished sharing the true presence of Christ with my daughter-- even before she had ears to receive the word or a mouth to proclaim the faith.

The parental role of God the Father makes more and more sense to me-- and the imagery more beautiful-- the further I walk through parenthood. It seems almost obvious that God would share His grace through nourishing food just as a mother shares her milk with her child. The food is perfect and life-giving. It is constantly available, never withheld, sweet-tasting and comforting. It protects from sickness, quickly heals wounds and continually evolves to meet changing needs. It gives strength, establishes trust and deepens the parent-child relationship. It is sacrificial and it is free.

Father, thank you for the gift of grace and nourishment through your sacraments. Thank you for the blessing of children. I pray that Mary Allison will approach the Supper of the Lamb one day with the same hunger, trust and closeness as she does today, burrowed into my breast.

-b

#tbt

I usually don't participate in throw back Thursday but thought I would throw it back today. Can you tell who is who? :)

Happy Thursday!

b + ma

The Months of May: Three

It's three months of May!

Mary Allison saw fire-flies, rolled over (back to belly and belly to back!), slept through the night, experienced Texas, discovered her hands and feet, celebrated the fourth of July, splashed in the water and laughed all for the first time this month.

 All our love,

b + c + ma

July 4th!

We celebrated Mary Allison's first Independence Day with Chris' family, the best brisket you can imagine, homemade bourbon peach cobbler topped with local vanilla bean ice-cream and Neil Diamond's "Coming to America!"

Check out my brother's kicks from 1986!

Lolli and Pop!

Uncle Scott

May is sporting my jellies from 1989!

Aunt Sarai

 Love,

C + B + M

her bassinet

She outgrew her bassinet.

She outgrew her bassinet like my mom did, like seven of my aunts and uncles did in the forties and fifties, like most of my Gahan cousins did, like my brother did, like I did.

I watch her wiggle and squirm in her now cramped sleeping quarters and remember the tiny newborn that I first laid in the cradle almost three months ago and I wonder where her life will go from here. Will she become a brainy calculus-whiz like Uncle Teddy or a mother of five like Aunt Colleen? Will she be the keeper of family lore like Aunt Sheila, the sweet and selfless sister like Aunt Heidi or the mischievous jokester like Uncle Michael? Maybe she will follow in my cousin Angela's footsteps and become a successful business woman, or maybe my brother's and become a doctor. So many stories have begun in this little wicker basket.

My grandma could not have imagined the history that would come from this bassinet when she purchased it for her first baby girl almost seventy-five years ago. She could not have known that her littlest granddaughter would some day rock her first baby girl to sleep in the same cradle and probably hum the same hymns. Oh how I wish Nanny could see my little Mary wrapped up in her bed.

I wonder how Nanny must have wept when she buried her first-born son instead of placing him back in the bassinet next to her after a penicillin shortage during World War II. I imagine the joy my cousin Erin felt when she finally placed her babies in the family crib after long trips to finally bring them home from foreign counties. I think how many Gahan women must have fallen asleep listening for her baby's breath or who spent hours dangling her arms over the bed, like me, to rock the back back and forth, back and forth.

So, Mary Allison, you graduate into a new shiny crib tonight. I look forward to watching you spin your own story from here. I hope you always feel the same warmth and comfort from your family that you've had from your very first night in our family cradle.