As I begin to write this I'm struck by how absurd it already sounds. It is twenty minutes before midnight on a seemingly random Wednesday. I write because I'm overwhelmed with emotion not thought which also feels absurd. The recognizably loud thought is simply, "wait! I'm not done with this yet."
Yet time stops for no-one.
I looked at my son tonight and fully recognized by bedtime tonight I would never see my 12 year old son again. I longed for more time. This is really strange to me. There have been some very very long days. Some weeks that felt like months and years that I could never imagine getting to the end of.
The entire Time/Space continuum seems to have shifted drastically. There is nothing in reality that is this drastic or sudden. Just a shift in my own thoughts most likely. Yet it affects everything. I hadn't thought this through. It's like a moment of time travel that I didn't see happening. Like watching the grass grow, hardly noticeable until it suddenly needs mowed.
We jumped into a place in life and got here somehow.
Yet time stops for no-one.
I looked at my son tonight and fully recognized by bedtime tonight I would never see my 12 year old son again. I longed for more time. This is really strange to me. There have been some very very long days. Some weeks that felt like months and years that I could never imagine getting to the end of.
The entire Time/Space continuum seems to have shifted drastically. There is nothing in reality that is this drastic or sudden. Just a shift in my own thoughts most likely. Yet it affects everything. I hadn't thought this through. It's like a moment of time travel that I didn't see happening. Like watching the grass grow, hardly noticeable until it suddenly needs mowed.
We jumped into a place in life and got here somehow.
My husband and I are working on our sons birthday present. It has taken a long time for this project to progress. As I considered the length of time consumed by focusing on so many details, I told my husband that it didn't need to be perfect. It's for a thirteen year old not a high paying customer.
Tonight my thoughts even on this have changed. Our son is far more important that the richest of kings to us. Making something well and working toward good details is honoring the man he is growing into right before our very eyes. Again I wonder how I didn't see this happening.
I was lacking attentIon to the details that mattered. So very focused on getting through it and all that might entail and it consumed my time.
Tonight my thoughts even on this have changed. Our son is far more important that the richest of kings to us. Making something well and working toward good details is honoring the man he is growing into right before our very eyes. Again I wonder how I didn't see this happening.
I was lacking attentIon to the details that mattered. So very focused on getting through it and all that might entail and it consumed my time.
Tonight it feels different. We are mid process in making this door for our son's birthday. Suddenly the door means something different too. This boy of ours is helpful compassionate sincere bold and longs to offer the world any and every thing he can. He is the most alive human being I've ever met. I love this kid with all that is within me.
That said, I wish I could undo the days that I longed to be over. This odd feeling is almost like a grieving except with hope and life still to come.
See what seems absurd about this whole post is that nothing really changes tomorrow. The reality of both of my children being teenagers and none left to come, really has changed nothing. We get up in the morning, kids head off to school. (We put the door up because we've actually been able to keep it secret). Life goes on, it's simply a birthday.
Maybe all it is, is a clear recognition that this place of raising kids at home will end. It's still years down the road. The focus on the days for so long rarely brought me to imagine life after raising kids. The simple place of imagining not having them here everyday. The recognition that these years are shorter than I thought.
I suddenly want to go back and play a little more. Read more stories. Find more humor. Sit near them longer. Set aside the stress. It always worked out anyhow. I want a redo. To focus on the good a little more. To look into the joy a little deeper. To say yes more often and correct less often.
The awesome thing is because it's not actually any different now that it's after midnight. I can choose these things still. I can listen while they are still here. I can love them more and focus on different details. I can be less angry over trivial things. I can rush less and pay attention more. There is still time. Thank God there is always still time.
And now the paint is dry and we move forward into the details of honoring our son.
That said, I wish I could undo the days that I longed to be over. This odd feeling is almost like a grieving except with hope and life still to come.
See what seems absurd about this whole post is that nothing really changes tomorrow. The reality of both of my children being teenagers and none left to come, really has changed nothing. We get up in the morning, kids head off to school. (We put the door up because we've actually been able to keep it secret). Life goes on, it's simply a birthday.
Maybe all it is, is a clear recognition that this place of raising kids at home will end. It's still years down the road. The focus on the days for so long rarely brought me to imagine life after raising kids. The simple place of imagining not having them here everyday. The recognition that these years are shorter than I thought.
I suddenly want to go back and play a little more. Read more stories. Find more humor. Sit near them longer. Set aside the stress. It always worked out anyhow. I want a redo. To focus on the good a little more. To look into the joy a little deeper. To say yes more often and correct less often.
The awesome thing is because it's not actually any different now that it's after midnight. I can choose these things still. I can listen while they are still here. I can love them more and focus on different details. I can be less angry over trivial things. I can rush less and pay attention more. There is still time. Thank God there is always still time.
And now the paint is dry and we move forward into the details of honoring our son.