This was the mother-daughter weekend at Amelia’s church. I had been to a few when I first returned to Bellingham. There was a time it was held elsewhere but the last few have been at her church.
I did not spend the night as some did, mostly the young. The kids knew every nick and cranny in the church and knew where the best place was to spend the night -sleeping bags, pillows, slippers and stuffed animals and all. The parents who spent the night found a haven, I am told, generally away from where the kids were.
I arrived mid morning this time. The discussion among the young and old was which body part of yourself you like the best. Amelia introduced me as her mom and told them I would wander around the tables and “check out body parts.” This brought a chuckle, but what I found was old and middle aged and young drawing or sculpting, gluing and pasting what was their best body part. I saw eyes, and hands, brains and lungs, skin and legs…. all in pictures. When I was told what the theme would be before I arrived, I had thought I would choose hands. Hands that knit and quilt and eat and cook (though reluctantly) and greet . But as I sat watching everyone, I grabbed paper and scissors and glue and some shiny ink pens and made my heart with the wires that are connected to my pace maker. When Amelia asked why I chose my heart, I had to say I was glad it was keeping me alive.
I did not stay very long but while I sat and knit, I watched the young, the middle aged and the old. The young were playing or talking, racing across the entry hall, running in and out of every place they could find. There was a very small little girl some took with them while they played. I was impressed with the care of the older teens as they played with and enjoyed the younger kids, inviting them to join their fun, or crawling on the floor with them, sitting in a rocking chair talking with them. Amelia told me later that they were once the little kids when the mother-daughter weekend started 14 years ago. Now they are the older kids, some soon to graduate from high school, and some may enjoy the weekend coming from college as Amelia’s daughter, Britt, did some years ago.
I sat alone for a while and a grandmother came to chat with me. Little ones made cocoa or munched on cookies. I left before lunch but came away with a wonderful feeling of belonging, and a delight in the church mother-daughter community.