We often celebrate beginnings - pregnancies, births, new homes, new jobs - but there are times in life to celebrate endings as well. There was An Ending here not too long ago. To celebrate that ending, in true Alia fashion, we had a Hallo-Weaning party.
Great preparation went into this celebration, from a Haley-baked gluten-free graveyard cake, to creepy potion and internal-organ containing jars and bottles, to a graveyard in our own yard.
There were costumes, a pinata, a yankee swap, a rawther halloweenish movie, and a round of This is Halloween Dance Party on the Wii.
There was silliness and laughter. Lots of laughter.
It was a wonderful Ending. As I sat back watching my most recent weanling and her sisterfriend enjoying their day together, my mind wandered back to the first moment in my life that I brought a baby to my breast, over fourteen years ago.
My expectations were practically non-existent. My fears of negative feelings relating to my history of abuse outweighed any possible benefits in my mind. It was one of the bravest things I've ever done, putting my firstborn to my breast. The bravest and the best.
That moment of attachment, of connection, of looking into my child's eyes as he nursed from my breast was the moment my soul started piecing itself back together. The transfer of not only milk, but of my love for this child taught me more about God's love for us, God's children, than any amount of Bible reading ever could.
I love that my daughter chose to have a Hallo-Weaning party. Not only does it fit her personality, but my mood at this time of year. It is on All Hallows Eve that I take time after all the costume-and-candy craziness to remember those who not only touched my life, but left an indelible mark on it for the good - those who, by the way they lived their lives, reflected God's light to all they met and in all they did. Just as God's light was reflected in the eyes of each of my new-from-God nurslings the first time they latched on to my breast.