Tonight, scrolling through Instagram, I stopped to read a post from a close high school friend, Erin. It’s her daughter’s 12th birthday and as I read about the amazing human her daughter is becoming, my eyes welled and I was transported back in time. Over eleven years ago, I remember walking into my friend’s house, baby carrier and all things baby carefully packed in my bag. I’m sure I was sweating and relieved to have arrived. Arriving in those stages of motherhood was an accomplishment.
I must have been fretting about trimming Wren’s nails. The next thing I knew, Erin was sitting on the couch, carefully cradling my baby and using a tiny pair of yellow and purple scissors to trim her nails. She had 11 months of parenting under her belt, a pro. My eyes must have filled up that day too- the relief of having someone to help me with this small task that somehow felt too big. Erin handed the pair of scissors to me and told me to keep them.
I thought of her every time I trimmed my girls’ nails… until about a year ago, my sister in-law arrived, her newborn in tow. She must have been fretting about nails, because the next thing I knew, I was cradling her baby and carefully trimming her nails with the tiny purple and yellow scissors. And, before I could give it a second thought, I was handing the scissors to her, telling her to keep them.
I added a comment on Erin’s Instagram post tonight, recalling those moments when our girls were brand new. She replied, “All of our girls are such incredible humans- and I feel our years.”
I feel them too.
Where There Is Joy 
This is so tender. That’s a very appropriate term, feeling the years! I think we wear them, too! What a beautiful little gesture, the handing of the scissors. I can’t help but wonder who the next recipient will be?
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Time flies. Thank you for sharing your memories. In August our daughter and grandchildren had come on a vacation. Our grandson is 10 and granddaughter is 6. We were thinking that they are growing up fast 🙂
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This post has great symmetry and repetition. Those scissors are on a journey through generations of nails. I really like the simplicity of this slice. It has condensed time and power.
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Those scissors have quite a story to tell, and the years pass so quickly. Is there a new mom who doesn’t worry about trimming baby’s nails? Years ago I sat in the hospital over many days when a friend’s baby was born. I saw him last week in his mom’s classroom. He’s now in college studying to be a teacher. I thought of his birth all those years ago and what a stellar young man he is now.
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Feeling the years . . . I remember being asked, as a new mom, if I wanted to learn how to give my baby a bath when we were still at the hospital. As a veteran babysitter and favorite aunt, I had tons of experience, but it was suddenly not the same.
Precious post about the path of the tiny purple and yellow scissors and the moms who reached out for help from their experienced moms!
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What a sweet memory of those early years. It’s funny how we need to lean on others and then, magically, we transform into the people who show others the way.
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Such a wonderfully, tender supportive tradition of passing the scissors and knowledge on to the next new mom. What an image of supportive motherhood!
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The scissors make a great touchstone in this piece – and in your life! I love the cradling of the babies, the helping out… and time passes so quickly, doesn’t it? “I feel our years” – great phrase to encompass all those feelings.
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