Bless Your Heart

Repost from October 8, 2008

I’ve decided that motherhood is the GED equivalent to attending seminary because I seem to have acquired priest-like privileges these days. I go around blessing peoples’ hearts left and right like it’s nobody’s business.

Being Southern, blessing hearts comes with the territory. I remember witnessing my mother bestowing blessings to others and wondering when she found the time between diapers and burp cloths to complete a course in blessings. These blessings, as many Southern mommas will attest to, are not thrown around lightly. You can’t just go slinging your benedictions all over town willy-nilly. Rather these small servings of salvation are reserved for those whose messes threaten their very quality of life. After all, bless hearts, they can’t help it.

My degree allows me the luxury of absolving, say, ugly babies from being responsible for their parents’ bestowal of substandard genes. Maybe I do have some pull with the Divine and these pinch-faced babies will, in spite of their parents, grow into their ugly like so many of us have. Bless his little heart, it’s not his fault.

Or that new momma who in her frazzled frenzy apparently didn’t notice that, although she put on plenty of concealer and mascara in an effort to feign being in love with her newly acquired lack of sleep, forgot to address the tangled, cheerio-laden ponytail that swings behind her announcing to the world with its perky indifference, that she has forgone her dignity to become the poster child for motherhood. Bless her heart, she’s doing her best.

So now that I am an honorary mess-blesser, I will go out into the world armed and ready to bless those less fortunate than myself. It would make it much easier if I could get my hands on one of those blingy papal hats though. Can I get an amen?

Published by Ginger McGee

I am a writer and artist living in Savannah, Georgia.

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