Mama, You Have Oatmeal in Your Hair

image

Sophie and Bella amused themselves brushing my hair after I’d brushed and braided theirs after their bath. Ouch!

As she tugged and tangled it, she announced to me that I had oatmeal in my hair. (She pronounces it eeo.) Bella added that I had peaches in my hair.

15 Responses to Mama, You Have Oatmeal in Your Hair

  1. Sarah @ This Heavenly Life May 3, 2010 at 4:14 am #

    Oh, that’s beautiful! 

  2. Margaret in MN May 3, 2010 at 4:22 am #

    Melanie, this is breath-taking and beautiful and sad and mystical. I am glad you posted it and plan to print it out for my journal.

    God’s plan is often mysterious yet always loving. Having lost four infants to miscarriage, I take much comfort in knowing that we are eternal beings. We are made to be with Him.

  3. Layla May 3, 2010 at 5:19 am #

    Thank you so much for sharing this.  So beautiful.

  4. mary@evlogia May 3, 2010 at 5:19 am #

    These are beautiful thoughts, Melanie.

    One thing that gives me great comfort is the thought that God knows how to save us. I once read a word from St. Gregory the Theologian who said that the death of infants, both in the womb and soon after birth, is a mystery that we cannot understand. But he went on to say that God desires the salvation of all and with the foreknowledge that something worse would befall the infant, something that would jeopardize their salvation, He takes them before their time, out of mercy for the one He saves and a special love that He has for someone in that child’s family. And while they have not had the opportunity to struggle to conquer the passions and grow in virtue, He still gives them the opportunity to come into union with Him. His mercy is beyond measure.

    Without a doubt, this is one of the most difficult aspects of the Fall.

    With love in Christ,
    mary

  5. Katherine May 3, 2010 at 5:38 am #

    Geez, Melanie! Do you have any idea what horrible thought first entered my head when I read your title! Thank God it wasn’t the case.

    That said, your reflection was beautiful and I’m glad you posted it too. (just wish it had a different title.)

  6. Kelly May 3, 2010 at 6:18 am #

    Oh, my goodness…

    That is so tender and beautiful.

    I’m glad you shared it with us. Thank you.

  7. kimberlee May 3, 2010 at 8:02 am #

    That is so painfully beautiful.Thank you for posting it.

  8. Melanie Bettinelli May 3, 2010 at 10:44 am #

    Thank you all.

    When I first wrote this it was not in response to my own loss or to that of someone I knew. It was as a stranger. I had been asked to pray for a woman I did not know who had experienced a loss. These words came but I didn’t feel quite right publishing them as they almost seemed to take advantage of someone else’s pain.

    Yet when I was drawn to re-read this post I realized something more. These words were a gift to me, a consolation offered not for my own loss but through me for someone else’s loss. They were not mine to keep. And so I send them out, knowing the Spirit of Him who gave them to me will see that they reach the hearts of those to whom He wishes to bestow His consolation.

    Mary, Thank you for sharing those words from St Gregory. Truly a beautiful reflection and much comfort there.

    Katherine, Oh no! I am so sorry I was the occasion of any alarm. Especially since you are still on edge after Elizabeth’s fall. I promise that if I ever have to announce sad news I will never do so in such a brutal way.

  9. Jamie May 4, 2010 at 3:48 am #

    This is lovely, Melanie.

  10. Theresa May 3, 2010 at 7:04 am #

    Melanie that is so very beautiful.

  11. Katherine May 4, 2010 at 7:43 am #

    Melanie, it did occur to me after the fact that if, God forbid, you had any news so sad you would not title it so. I do really think Elizabeth’s fall this past weekend has put me on a kind of “high alert.” I will work on coming down from DEFCON 2 this week.

  12. Rosemary Marx May 6, 2010 at 10:24 am #

    What a beautiful poem.  Thank you.

    This is so fitting for the brief life of my grandson, Tyler, who died at age 2 1/2 of pontine glioma, a brain stem cancer.

  13. Karen Edmisten May 6, 2010 at 7:15 am #

    Melanie, so lovely and touching. Thanks.

  14. Lindsay Schlegel February 1, 2012 at 12:09 pm #

    Melanie, I read this poem in AFTER MISCARRIAGE. It expresses my recent experience with miscarriage so precisely. Yes, I am sad, but I’ve been blessed with a sense of peace and acceptance very early. I’m amazed that this is not written from personal experience, but I realize it need not be. Your understanding does not necessitate your experiencing this pain. I am so grateful that your words are allowing me to feel what I need to feel, and let that be okay. I hope it’s all right that I’ve shared this poem on my blog (http://youngmarriedmom.com/guest-post-remixed/), linking both to this page and the book. If not, I’ll take it down right away. Either way, thank you.

  15. Colleen October 18, 2012 at 3:31 am #

    I just want you to know I have this written in my grief journal. And it means much to me. And I am glad you have had the chance to share these consoling words with mothers.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

Powered by WordPress. Designed by Woo Themes