This is my beautiful Joli. She turned 30 today and I am very nostalgic, have been for days actually. Someone asked me if her turning 30 made me feel old. I haven't really felt old as much as I've felt amazed.
You see Joli came nine months after I lost a little boy who only lived 8 days. I hoped for the best, but prepared for the worst. She weighed 9 pounds and was perfectly healthy, and I truly understood the miracle of a healthy birth even though I was just 20.
Joli means sweet and pretty in French. I thought that would label her the chic and beautiful creature I saw before me. But she wasn't into chic. She was an authentic country girl who loved to wear strange, unusual outfits, talk and sing and create joyful drama with wild abandon through every day. She amazed me then.
But she amazes now. She works a high-powered corporate job with a hard hat on most days. She an excellent mother to my 2 grandsons. She's a good wife. An incredible friend - she has a host of loyal and committed friendships. And she has been a good, good daughter -all that I could ever ask for . She makes me very proud to be her mother. She is delightful. And Chic.
I'm amazed that I'm her mother- that's all there is to it. I was too young, married to the wrong man, uneducated at the time, struggling to hold my own head above water and yet, somehow, God made up all the difference and gifted me. When your young, you live half scared that you will get the important stuff all wrong. Joli is my proof that love covers a multitude of sins.