Monday, September 17, 2012

Hindsight

Let's pretend that I don't have huge gaps with my blogging, K?

Let's also pretend that this baby of ours is not already three years old. Pretty much, no matter how you slice it, babies grow up and my heartache would paralyze me if not for the blessing of living life alongside them.


I am not fond of babies getting older. I am madly in love with turned-up noses and dimpled thighs. 


The growing up is sneaky.

Hello little one. Your baby self is gone.


I'm left with some sweet glimpses and cherub glances but what I know from hindsight is this ... there will come a day when even the glimpses and glances will be all but impossible to remember. 




I know this because I have been here before. I've sprawled out on blankets with babies (real and pretend) and held close the sweet little girls who are now so close to being grown that it pierces my heart daily.

And I have a terrifically difficult time remembering the parts I want to and forgetting the ones I don't.

Hurts to forget.
Hurts to remember.
The only thing hindsight does for me is make me want to visit those days so that it feels fresh again.



Their chubby hands around my neck ... pulling me close for one more kiss.
The sound of their voice ... their funny words said wrong one more time ... the bedtime ritual played out religiously. (without my woeful sigh)


These are sweet days.
These are hard days.
I wish they married more poetically than they do, sometimes.




Parenting through childhood is a sweet, fleeting, beautiful once-in-a-lifetime gift.
There is nothing else like it.



It's interesting to hear my oldest two talk about their childhood with such affinity and longing. Makes my heart happy to know that those years were as precious to them as they were to me.


So as this year brings with it immense change from crib to college, my heart is on quite the journey. The highs and lows are intense as I watch from youngest to oldest enter new phases of their lives.


I have stood over the crib five different times and cried quiet tears as I watched the baby sleep ...  legs too long with their feet coming through the slats ... knowing the time was near.

But this is my first time to stand over the bed ... watching my firstborn sleep ... again with quiet tears. 
How could this time be here so soon?




Pray that I don't let the letting go become an idol.

It is a breathtakingly beautiful thing to see these years come to fruition. It is my life's work thus far and by His grace, that work has yielded fruit.



"He has made everything beautiful in its time."


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7 comments:

twilliamson said...

Beautiful blog - I have had such an emotional year. It is so hard to let go yet I know I raised them to be adults. I can relate to how you are feeling so much and if you ever want to just cry on my shoulder for no apparent reason - I will actually understand.

Anonymous said...

Grateful to be walking this road with you. L

Matt Currier said...

Totally understand <3

Anonymous said...

such a sweet post, a tearful read. I am really going to have to stop getting on here at work. Ha Love you Kimberly Marie !!

L Craig :)

jeskipsmom said...

Kim, You express things so beautifully from a mother's heart! I cried when I read this. I have to admit that I am not the best at consoling because I'll just cry right along with you, but am happy to do that anytime you need! :) Only because I'm ahead of you by just a couple of years, let me share with you the immense joy I feel when I see my oldest make wise, godly decisions. There is no joy like it to know she is following Him as an adult. I promise the good will make the letting go bearable. Praying for you this year my friend!

Amy said...

THIS IS MY HEART! So eloquently put. This is EXACTLY what I try to relay to people and feel every single day. Love this post!

Lisa said...

Beautifully put! I know the piercings well.