Monday, September 9, 2013

On Moments Becoming Memories...

Many people have asked me in the last few weeks, "So, what are you going to do with your time while Ana and Gabriel are in preschool?"  I've pondered, analyzed, prayed about this, thought about this day for a longggg time.  Truthfully, I've pictured myself skipping home, so excited to have some uninterrupted moments. I've also pictured myself crying.  In short, I really didn't know what to expect.

  Today was the day.  

I dropped Ana and Gabriel off at school, a few tears for G, but for the most part, smooth sailing.  (Thank you, Mrs. Grove, for talking of candy-dropping planes :-)  I wore a smile to the parking lot after passing by some teary-eyed mamas and even some mamas who looked half scared themselves.  Poor things-A mama's love runs deep.

I drove home, happy to be alive, happy to have a complete thought.  Heck, I even had several complete thoughts as I drove through town, all without screaming from rear of the suburban.  As I was parking, I saw another preschool mama warming up in our alley, preparing for her run, no children in tow today.  We exchanged words of exercise, shower, and then back to pick them up.
That was MY plan.

Instead, I walked into the house and it was literally as if time stood still.  I looked around at the evidence of the many moments I'd had with my children this morning.  My eyes went from Cole's unfolded jacket to Gabriel's unplaced puzzle pieces.  I glanced down at Ana's blanket strewn on the floor and then to Julia's favorite, soft grey shirt hanging over the side of the bench.
Normally these things make me about half crazy.  

Not Today.

The unexpected happened. I dropped to my knees. Gratitude filling my heart.  I couldn't believe I had been given so much.   I started thanking God for my husband. For Cole.  Julia.  Ana.  Gabriel. Sometimes absence does make the heart grow fonder apparently.

The evidence of the brevity of moments was crystal clear.  Moments become memories in a the blink of an eye, I resolved. Just a breath, and a moment is over.  My mind reverted back to just a few short minutes ago, as I passed by the Lutheran Church, glancing at Andre as he prepared for today's funeral.

This must be how one feels at the end of her life.  
Counting memories of loved ones instead of bills.
                              Counting the slightest of touches from loved ones instead of forgotten chores.
                                                        Counting how many times you turned them to Christ instead of yourself.

Nancy has said countless times, You start letting go before they're born.
So many empty nest mamas have said, Enjoy them...they'll be gone before you know it.
And I get it.  I didn't expect all this.  To ponder life and the brevity of it all.  To be drop-to-your-knees thankful.  To cry-poor mama-a mama's love runs deep.

So I give them back to the Giver of Life. Thankful for all He has given.

For from Him and through Him and to him are all things.  To him be the glory forever.  Amen.