Lately there seems to be this ever present feeling that time is slipping through my fingers. I feel it when I look at pictures of my kids and realize they are now 6 and 8. I feel it when I look at my parents and see they have aged a little more since I last saw them. I feel it when I hear of friends diagnosed with new illnesses. I feel it often and I wonder where in the hell did the time go?
I have never lived my life regretting anything. Mistakes I have made, and there have been a lot of them, were opportunities for me to grow and learn. But lately, I regret not being more in the moment. Not stopping to smell those damn flowers because I was too tired, too busy, too distracted, too worried, too whatever to be fully present in what I was doing.
I am glad now that I captured so much of what happened when my girls were little here on these pages. I can honestly say I don't fully recall all of those moments with exact clarity because new ones have taken their place and time has softened the edges to a point where I only know bits and pieces.
I think I should probably start writing again because I do not have an infinite amount of time. There will come a point when I will want to remember that today I read a friend's blog and was saddened by his deteriorating health and the knowledge that we would likely never actually meet in person. I will want to remember that another friend, who helped me get through the time when my mom was struggling with cancer, is now facing her own health issues and it breaks my heart. I will want to remember that R was so brave in her first Tae Kwon Do class yesterday and ran faster and jumped higher than most of the kids. I will want to remember that C made me the sweetest card that told me how great of a mom I was and how much I meant to her. I will want to remember that even when I am sick (like now) and frustrated and burnt out and overworked, etc. that I come home to beautifully healthy children and a husband who has been through pretty much everything with me. I am lucky. And I have the time now, to capture just a little bit of those memories for a later date when time has run out.
1 comment:
Missy, my friend.
Years ago, when my own kids were young, and I was struggling to meet financial obligations, when I was forced to work nights outdoors, when the weather was dreadful and lashing rain soaked me to the skin and I scampered nimbly across train tracks in dismal train yards to climb on slowly rolling boxcars and stop them in the right spot ... When I joined my dripping work mates later, and chatted and laughed in the basement lunchroom which smelled of egg salad and dirty socks ... When I drove home again, squinting against the rising sun and Daniel was staying home from school because he was sick and Meagan was crying because she didn't like porridge ...
Nobody told me, Missy. And if they had, I wouldn't have believed it. But I tell you truly, those were the good ol' days. Missy, the good ol' days are now. I promise you.
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