“Mama! Come, come! I just found the mossiest tree! You will love it – you LOVE mossy trees!”
I followed my 5 year old son to the edge of the forest, he on his too-small bike with his Spiderman helmet leading the way. Already I could feel myself filling with emotion. I do love mossy trees. I love their coats of green life upon life, identifying the trees as perfect homes. I love the warm look, the springy, soft feel. I also love them in a way I can’t describe in words. Sometimes there’s no reason why the soul is drawn to what it is. Nothing we understand. That’s how I feel about mossy trees.
I guess my kids have caught on to that.
At the edge of the forest, my son jumped off his bike and grabbed my hand. “It’s up here,” he murmured as he kept his eye on his footing, making his way up the slight incline. Surrounded now by cloaked giants, amusement set in. Which one was the mossiest? Which one had jerked my son’s thoughts away from his play and to his mom?
Unsuccessfully navigating around spiderwebs, I held my breath and pulled silk from my arms, praying that the inhabitants hadn’t accidentally found their way down the back of my shirt. We ventured onward, stepping over roots, and ended up on the mulchy trail.
“Here it is, Mom! See! I told you it’s mossy!”
My reaction was perhaps a little over-done as I gasped and clapped my hands and smiled up to my eyes. It was indeed mossy, just like the dozens of other trees, several spiderwebs back. But this moment deserved a bit of fanfare. It wasn’t just the sight of the tree that was awesome; my son had been immersed in play with other young boys, pretending to be guardians of this sacred space, building forts for the ‘good guys’ but something whispered to him his mama’s name when he came across this beauty.
The countless times I gushed about these twisted trunks and carried on about loving these beasts, my son was absorbing bits and pieces of my sparkly soul. These bits and pieces made their way into his heart and all over this forest. And these bits and pieces will outlive me. This, I know.
There’s a fancy word for this and it’s ‘legacy.’ My legacy – a part of it anyway – will live in moss-covered trees. And I am so good with that. I may never make a huge impact on the local or global community. But my kids know the things that are important to me. And as we grow together, I will keep sharing those parts of me.
Mamas and Papas! As you get to know your children for who they are, make sure they know who you are too. Among the directives and schedules and responsible things, add some soul. Marvel out loud. Share your hopes. Spill your dreams. And do. Do the things that make you happy – little silly things, big bold things.
Sprinkle the bits and pieces of your sparkly soul over everything.