The Best of All Possible Worlds

The Best of All Possible Worlds

I’m not sure how it works, but can imagine several possible scenarios.  Each of us has a soul, I believe; an internal and eternal being that is unique to every individual.  I speculate these souls take root with conception, as life begins.  But how, exactly, are they matched with the physical form in which they will dwell?  Is it random?  Maybe there’s a big team of angels in Heaven whose sole job is Soul Assignment:  “You, head for Poughkeepsie, you’re up next!” and “Ok, you, I’m sending you to these folks in Wichita, they look really nice.”  It would be a big job.  And what about the people who aren’t so nice, but have kids anyway? It’s not as though we’re required to read a book and pass a test in order to become parents.  Do the souls assigned to the children of Grade-A Jerks get special dispensation ahead of time?  Are they sent specifically to try and help the Jerks change their ways?  Or is it possible that we, in our soul form, look down from the great holding pen in the sky and say “That family.  I want to go there!”  or “See them?  Those are the parents I want.”  I don’t know.  But if that’s the method, then let me just brag a little right here, ’cause then the truth would be that I really know how to pick a mom.

My place in the family was The Baby, as the youngest of three children born to a truly wonderful couple.  Mother told me that she knew she was expecting me within three weeks of my beginning, when something she ate at a New Years Eve party made her stomach stand up and protest in no uncertain terms.  And sure enough, the following September, there I was.  At the hospital, she says, she cried, knowing that this delivery would be her last.  Having always loved children, and being a natural Baby Magnet, Mother treasured each of us kids as if we were more than royalty.  We were expected to mind our manners and do our best, but woe to the hapless person who threatened or harmed one of us at any age:  Mama Bear would appear to defend her cubs!

Mother rocked us and read to us from infancy on, until we could read for ourselves. She cooked and served us three meals a day, which we all ate together at the table on which my computer sits right now.  An excellent seamstress, Mother sewed almost all of our clothes, and did it well.  She packed our lunches for school, was Room Mother for our class parties, baked and decorated our birthday cakes, taught us how to garden, and so many other things, it would take volumes to list them all.  I think I can speak for my siblings as well as myself when I say that she has been our greatest encourager and strongest supporter all of our lives.  For that–and for so much else–I am eternally grateful.

So to my own, and indeed, to all moms out there, Happy Mother’s Day.  May you each feel as blessed as I do.

My beautiful picture

Mommy and Me