The Last Grains of Sand in the Hour Glass

We had to write our goals for the coming year at work; both business and personal.  (I think I should add blogging, I love to write and get my thoughts cleared on "paper"!)  I wrote my list, then I'd add to it, so I'd reprint it one more time. 

I'm anticipating so much this year.  It is funny once those goals are written down, it becomes more of a reality, something to work toward.  I'm sure that it was the company's ploy as they will see much improvement in their employees, as well as improvement in their store.  But it has changed how I manage my time.

I confess I can be a workaholic.  There is something always that needs to be done, and I have this mind set there, as well as home, that "I'm the only person who'll do it".  And with that mindset I spend a lot of time at the store, even more than the time sheet says.  Don't get me wrong.  The other thing I battle is frankly I love my job and its atmosphere.  I love the guests and building relationships.  They encourage me as much as I try to encourage them.  That love will pull me back in as well.

But when I look at my goal list, I see at the very top of the list is:  Not to miss an opportunity to embrace a moment with my girls. 

Katie has 1 1/2 years left in high school, and how she turns 18 this year, and Courtney has 2 1/2 years and turns 16 years old.  I see the hour glass with just a few grains of sand in it.  My time is running out with them. 

I have learned through Lindsay how being an "adult" looks like.  Real responsibilities come.  Time is of the essence.  We compete with boys, school, friends and work.  Home is viewed as something that will always be there, but not something to be part of as much.  We rejoice in her accomplishments from afar and remain on our knees for the challenges that are ahead for her.  She walks this path without her parents holding her hands, and we hope we said all the right words to her in the earlier years to help her through.  She does her thing, as we do ours.    

Pretty soon, Katie will be there.

Then Courtney.

Then life is completely different from the one I have dreamt of, and that is so much apart of who I am.  It is scary to think of life being different.  It brings me so much sorrow as I think of life being so drastically different.  I have been looking at pictures of when our family was young a lot, and wishing I could turn back and hold them more.  I look back wishing I put the chore I was so focused on getting done, and hold or play with my girls one more time.   

We get several emails a day from colleges wanting Katie.  There seems to be a power that rises in me when I hit that delete button, and something inside of me says "No!  You can't have her yet!". 

When I was younger, all I wanted was to be a wife and mother.  I dreamt of the babies to hold, and little ones to care for.  I didn't think of the difficulties of the teenage years, but planned for the years ahead just the same. 

I think of how many times I fell down on bended knee praying for God to give me wisdom and give me the right words to say to help teach them.  Or the strength to get through temper tantrums.  I wondered if they would ever be out of diapers.  I prayed for my girls as they journeyed through school and discovered challenges along the way.  I pleaded to draw them back to me when they journeyed onto independence.  And I will continue to repeat those same prayers as they each go onto their next adventure - even though the giggles won't be heard on the other side of these walls.  Space will separate us.  But my love will be all over them - even though I won't be near to hold them.

And in all this dread of the years ahead, and the sting of sorrow, I choose to be thankful. 

I'm thankful to you God, for the years in the past.  I'm thankful for giving me the dream to be a mom, and fulfilling that dream.  I'm thankful for the list of goals we had to do, so I can turn away from my job more and turn toward these girls before they are off to their next adventure.  I'm thankful that you have given me strength when needed, and thankful you'll continue to give me strength in the years to come.  And I'm thankful that you hold me more and more each day, as I let go of these girls one by one.  I welcome your embrace.

So yes, I have turned away from my job little by little, and embrace those moments of hearing about their days as they come home from school, playing games in spite of the hour or day it is and I will crawl in their rooms at night, as they sleep and hold them a little while longer.

Let Me Hold You Longer

There have been a couple of events that have taken hold in our home in the last month.  Events some may think, it isn't that big deal...others, can grasp it in their heart.

Last month, Lindsay turned 18 years old!  18 Years old marks adulthood ... yet I still see the baby girl within.

Last month, Lindsay was accepted to two colleges!  Two weeks ago, Lindsay had auditions to get into the performing arts school of music in one of the colleges.  I will save that story for another time, and for now I will focus on this Mama's heart.  The day we have trained and prepared our baby for is closer than ever before ... I don't see my life ever being the same. 

This weeks marks the first week of the last quarter.  The school year is drawing to an end.

I contemplated how to share the tears I have wept, the joy I have danced and the full heart I hold during this time.  I came across a children's book I purchased a few years back, not grasping it then but with a full concept now. Let me read it to you, with my own pictures, and some edits made personally by me.

Let Me Hold You Longer

Written by Karen Kingsbury

Long ago you came to me,

  a miracle of firsts:

First smiles and teeth and baby steps,

  a sunbeam on the burst.

But one day you will move away
  and leave to me your past,
And I will be left thinking of
  a lifetime of your lasts...

The last time that I fed

your baby lips.

The last time that I lifted you

and held you on my hip.

The last night when you woke up crying,

  needing to be walked,

When last you crawled up with your Cookie Monster,

  wanting to be rocked.

The last time when you ran to me,  still small enough to hold.
The last time that you said you'd marry
  Daddy when you grew old.
Precious, simple moments and
  bright flashes from you past-
Would I have held on longer if
  I'd known they were your last?

Our last adventure to the park,
  your final midday nap,
The last time when you wore your favorite
  dress and gave a little tap.

Your last few hours of kindergarten,

  those last days of first grade,

Your last craft created in Sunday school,

  last colored picture made.

I never said good-bye to all

  your yesterdays long passed.

So what about tomorrow-

  will I recognize your lasts?

The last time that you catch a frog

  in the window wells.

The last time that I kiss your hurts

  all those time you fell.

Silly,scattered images

  will represent your past.

I keep on taking pictures,

  never quite sure of your lasts...

The last time that I comb your hair

  or stop a pillow fight.
The last time that I pray with you
  and tuck you in a night.
The last time when we cuddle
  with a book, just me and you.
The last time you jump in our bed
  and sleep between us two.

The last piano lesson,
  the last field trips, especially in 4th grade.

Your last few weeks of middle school,

  and watching you squeal for parades.

I look ahead and dream of days
  that haven't come to pass.
But as I do, I sometimes miss
  today's sweet, precious lasts ...






The last time that I help you with

  a math or spelling test.

The last time when I shout that yes,

  your room is still a mess.

The last time that you need me for
  a ride from here to there.
The last time that you spend the night
  and your argument of how "things aren't fair".

My life keeps moving faster,

  stealing precious days that pass.

I want to hold on longer-

  want to recognize your lasts...

The last time that you need my help

  with details of a date.

The last time that you ask me 
if you could be home late.

The last time that you talk to me

about your hopes and dreams.

The last time that you wear your drum major uniform

for your high school team.

I've watched you grow and barely noticed

seasons as they pass.

If I could freeze the hands of time,

I'd hold on to your lasts.

For come some bright fall morning,
you'll be going far away.
College life will beckon
in a brilliant sort of way.
One last hug, one last good-bye,
one quick and hurried kiss.
One last time to understand
just how much you'll be missed.
I'll watch you leave and think how fast our time together passed.

Let me hold on longer, God,
to every precious last.

This is what the Lord says:

"Let not the wise man boast of his wisdom

or the strong man boast of his strength

or the rich man boast of his riches,

but let him who boasts boast about this:

that he understands and knows me,

that I am the Lord, who exercises kindness,

justice and righteousness on earth,

for in these I delight,

declares the Lord.

Jeremiah 9:23-34

Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow ...

"This is the day the Lord has made and I WILL rejoice and be glad in it!" 

Our family is sad today.  We have to put our beloved rabbit down.  We just had to do the same thing with our dog four months ago, so the wounds aren't healed quite yet.  Today my heart is full - sorrow for my own loss, sorrow as I watch my children walk through this, and sorrow as I remember.

Daisy was brought into our home to be part of the kindergarten class when Katie's teacher's rabbit died.  Katie missed the classroom pet and had it on her heart to replace hers.  Mrs. Nass was "generous" to ask that we keep him.  This led to carrying Daisy back and forth to kindergarten for two years.

Daisy loved kids.  Loved attention.  Loved vegetables over his "real" food.  Loved banana chips best of all!   He loved to chase Lindsay's cat, which brought much entertainment.

Daisy moved with us from California to Colorado.  We took him out at every rest area to hop around.  He drew a crowd everywhere we went.  Daisy was a great rabbit. 

Today I not only remember everything about this rabbit, but I can't help but remember the last ten years when my girls were younger than they are now.

You see I remember my middle child, 5 years old, with a heart of wonder.  She approached everything wide-eyed and full of excitement.  I remember the excitement of three little girls who were so excited of a rabbit for a pet.  I remember them discovering new things.  I remember our girls learning what responsibilities were.  I remember them learning how to share, yet how to protect at the same time.  I look back when Daisy came into our lives and see girls full of innocence, tenderness and wonder. 

I look to the day that is ahead - a time of sorrow today and adventure for tomorrow, and still see the children they were.  Today I see older children that aren't little anymore, and even taller than me.  I see their hearts that have been wounded by trials and hurts that have come their way.  I see tears running down their faces.  I see memories getting farther away from me ... and yet I stand and can see new beginnings.

So perhaps this day is full of sadness because of the loss we are enduring, as we loved that bunny so.  I look through my own tears, and not only remember a bunny.  But I remember the babies we once had.  I long to just go back and embrace those moments.  I long for time to stand still for just a moment.  

But time doesn't stand still.  It moves on.  Today we will bury our friend, our family member.  They will learn to stand with Jesus more and experience how He will overcome their sadness and whatever other trials that lie ahead.  Today as I kiss their tears away, I will remember the innocence, tenderness and wonder they once held of years ago, and I will kiss the same little girls I held onto ten years ago - just bigger in size, and I will be kissing the memories that are yet to come.