From My Arms to His Arm

Ding . . . ding . . . ding . . . I had been only vaguely aware of the hospital sounds as I was whisked away to the delivery room.  

After months of anticipation and preparation, the time had come.   At 11:57 a.m. I had a baby girl.  Then I fell asleep.  Only later, when everyone had gone home and the quiet solitude and soft glow of the room enveloped me, did I first hold her in my arms.

I will remember the moment forever.  It was magical.  She was beautiful.  My heart melted. 

Then, in the blink of an eye, I was being whisked down the aisle on the arm of my handsome, tuxedo-clad son, her younger brother, as he escorted me, the mother of the bride, to my front-row seat.  Only vaguely aware of the sounds of the string quartet playing Pachelbel, I prepared for the moment when I would hear the bride’s processional and I would stand in her honor. 

After months of anticipation and preparation, the time had come.  At 8:00 p.m. on New Year’s Eve, I had a lovely daughter about to become a wife. There it was — Handel.  There she was, in the soft glow of the ballroom, on her daddy’s arm.

I will remember the moment forever.  It was magical.  She was beautiful.  My heart melted.

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About Jan Hamlett

Exploring faith outside the safety of Sunday
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4 Responses to From My Arms to His Arm

  1. jan golden says:

    you really have a way with words, girlfriend! Jennifer will cherish this post!

  2. Judy Wiley says:

    Sounded beautiful. I gather all went well! You are collecting all of these words of wisdom for a future publication for your devoted followers I hope….

  3. Jan Hamlett says:

    Hi Judy, I am flattered by your comment; as a matter of fact, I do have something like that in mind. Thanks for being a regular reader! I will keep you posted.

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