The torch is passed.

This picture is of a keychain that I bought for my mom eons ago. To be exact, it had to have been before I was 15 and had that precious document known as a driver’s license. Before I got my license, Mom transported me to ballet classes 3-4 times a week, cheerleading practices several times a week, rehearsals, games, OM meetings, etc, etc. Add to that my brothers’ copious amounts of activities. Her only break was the fact that my older sister had HER license. You see the appropriateness of the key chain.

There’s the backstory of that item.

So, Monday, with the new mental energy that a new year always seems to give everyone, my mind is working on the children’s rooms, and thinking about how they can be better decorated. To that end, I start removing some things from Poodle’s room that no longer seem to fit in there. One of them being this lovely large box that my mom beautifully covered in the blue toile fabric that was part of Poodle’s nursery ensemble. It was one of the gifts she gave to us at the baby shower that the church threw for us when I was still preggers with Poodle. Inside this large hinged-top box, Mom had put lots of lovely things like a leather-weave bound journal, a tooth fairy pillow, little hand-painted boxes decoupaged with pieces of our wedding program, and the like. And, then, there was a silver plated box with a butterfly on top. And inside, laying on top of the soft red lining, was this keychain.

It’s not that I hadn’t seen it before. I had! Several times. The day of the shower, a couple of times after that. But, each time, with all the momentous things that were about to happen, or were currently happening, the significance of the handing down of the key chain was…. well – almost lost. It was appreciated, and it was a lovely gesture, and it was sweet. But the impact was lost among the drama of being pregnant for the first time and learning to be a parent. Maybe that’s why I subconsciously left everything in that box as it was. Maybe I knew that I was missing some heartfelt meaning because I was too busy with more urgently felt emotions.

Until New Year’s Day. When I opened the lid of the silver box and saw the keychain, I felt a noticeable passing of the torch. It was a quiet moment; the kids were elsewhere for that brief instant. I could actually feel my mom quietly smiling at me. No words were necessary. A shared bond of motherhood finally recognized.

Not just a keychain anymore. Thank you, Mom. I feel like I’ve earned my Eagle badge.