From Deep in My Soul

I had other things planned for this week’s email but I felt compelled to write what is below instead. A few tears where shed in its writing. I can truly tell you that this IS from my heart to yours. I hope you enjoy it.

The Girl in the Video

The other day, I watched some old home movies. The kind you haven't watched since you starred in them. I pressed play, and there they were: my boys, 3 and 4 years old, and me, a young mom of 26. It was like stepping into a time capsule, a snapshot of a life I barely recognized, yet felt so intimately connected to. That was 27 years ago.

The onslaught of emotions that washed over me was startling, almost overwhelming. It wasn't just nostalgia; it was a profound ache, a deep longing in my soul to reach through the screen, to physically pull my children into my arms and hold them tight. Their sweet, innocent faces, their tiny hands, and those voices... oh, those voices. The sound of their laughter, their little questions, their pure, unadulterated joy – it cut through me like a knife, a bittersweet melody of a time long gone.

I try to live in the present, to not dwell on the past or wish for things to be different. But watching those videos had me yearning to transport back in time, to experience those precious years again, but as the woman I am now. To be present in those moments with the wisdom and understanding I've gained over time. Oh, how I loved being a mom to my children. It was a love so fierce, so all-consuming. I wasn't a perfect mom. I don't even know what that's supposed to look like, to be honest. I just know I tried really hard to be a good mom.

As I've aged, as I've continued to grow as a person, learning, experiencing, evolving, I've had moments of regret. Moments of guilt for not knowing better at the time. Moments where I wonder if I could have done things differently, better. In those home movies, what I saw was a girl, not yet fully a woman, who loved her children with every fiber of her being. I could hear it in her voice, see it in her presence.

But there were also moments, where I found myself a little irritated at her. At the girl on the screen. She didn’t always have the patience she should have. I saw glimpses of a frustration that I now recognize as exhaustion, a weariness that comes with the relentlessness of young motherhood. I wanted to reach through the screen and tell her to take a deep breath, to slow down, to cherish those fleeting moments more.

What I also saw were kind, resilient, curious, joyful children who loved each other deeply. They truly are the miniatures of their current selves, the essence of who they are today, captured in those tiny bodies.

When you're in the throes of raising young children, especially busy 3 and 4-year-old boys, it's incredibly difficult to step back and truly see them for who they are in character. Parenthood can feel like a constant state of survival, a relentless marathon of diapers, tantrums, and endless energy. And sometimes, it's the children who are the fittest, the ones who teach you how to survive.

Throughout raising my kids, I remember actively hoping, praying, that I was doing it right, especially as they became teenagers. There were moments where I was pretty certain I'd messed up motherhood completely, moments where I felt like I'd failed them in some fundamental way. And some of those moments, I actually did mess it up, royally. I made mistakes, said things I shouldn't have, reacted in ways I regretted.

Watching those videos, and especially watching the girl I was, is strangely healing. It's a reminder that despite my imperfections, despite the moments of doubt and regret, I did try hard to be a good mom. It's also a reminder that in the moments I did mess up, I was still a child myself in many ways, still figuring things out. But the girl I saw deeply loved being their mom, more than anything else on earth.

I've had some sorrowful feelings, not going to lie. A deep sense of longing, a wistfulness for a time that can never be recaptured. But I know I can't sit in those feelings now. They don't serve me, they don't serve my life, and they certainly don't serve my children.

Instead, I choose to carry the love I saw in those videos forward, using the lessons learned to embrace the present and cultivate continued connections with my grown sons. The past has shaped me, but it doesn't define me. My love for them, then and now, is the constant, and that's where I choose to focus my energy.

Perhaps, if there's anything others can take from this, it's that we are all works in progress, both as parents and as individuals. We may not always get it right, but the love we give, the effort we make, and the lessons we learn along the way, are what truly matter. And sometimes, looking back can be a gentle reminder of the strength and love we possessed all along.

From my heart to yours,

Keli 💚