i've long had a fascination with matryoshka, but those beautiful russian nesting dolls took on a greater meaning for me while i was pregnant with my daughter, koruna. i saw them as a symbol of the unbroken maternal lineage of which i am a part - a woman coming from a woman coming from a woman.
i find it miraculous that baby girls are born into this world with all the eggs that they will have in their lifetime - that while koruna was nesting inside of me, all of her little eggs were nesting inside of her. i, in fact, held the eggs of my grandchildren.
i am also knocked out to think that the egg-that-was-to-become-me was once nesting inside my maternal grandmother when she carried my mama. thinking about that strengthens my emotional connection to all the women who've come before me and all the women who are still to come.
it struck me the other day that having a son means something entirely different since his children will not nest inside of him. it means that there is perhaps a little girl out there - or maybe she's not here yet - that could one day carry my grandchildren. who is this little girl? where does she live? who is bathing her and kissing her goodnight and teaching her how to love?
i know that since my sisters and i were conceived, my mama has prayed for the little boys growing up somewhere that we would someday grow to love.
she has prayed for ian for my entire lifetime. what a beautiful gift.
ian and i have been married for 3 years this week, which seems like such a short time since i've loved him for over 8. i like to think that my mama's love, the love of a stranger, was somehow helpful to ian throughout his life - that maybe it even guided him in my direction.
and so i open up my heart and send my love to my daughter's and my son's future loves, to their friends, their enemies, their teachers.
loving strangers is such a different practice in loving....