Time Marches On

When I was going into 8^th grade, my family stayed with my aunt and uncle for the summer while our house was being built. It was an idyllic time, filled with warm, summery memories: learning to cook pancakes in my aunt’s ancient iron pans; swimming in my aunt’s new pool; and eating Herr’s potato chips with cream-cheese-and-chive dip while playing late-night monopoly games. 

 

In the back of my mind, there was always the faint reminder that we were starting at a new school in the fall. But I tried to push off the thought and live one day at a time. Still, it would creep into my mind and send butterflies fluttering around my stomach. I knew it was inevitable. (Time marches on without any need for permission from us. We can plead with it, beg it to stop or, at the very least, slow down…but it will always ignore us.)

 

Yet, it was okay. The new school became the old school and, before I knew it, I was graduating.

 

It’s the same way I’ve felt with my children. They grow at an alarming rate of speed – changing numbers in 365 days, maturing with life’s experiences and stretching towards the sky. 

 

I know that I’ve lamented this for most of the years that I’ve kept this blog (and most of the years that preceded that). But it’s like their childhoods were that same endless summer that would eventually – and inevitably – end up with them growing up and getting jobs and moving into their own places. I tried to push off the thought, like before, but the butterflies always returned.

 

And Time never blinks…not once. The quick passage doesn’t surprise it. It doesn’t concern it.

 

All the young moms on social media notice it. They know it will happen since they’ve been told it will happen; yet it still surprises them because it happens so quickly.

 

I once read something that said to really pay attention to the little things that pass: the last time they reach up to be held; the last time you help them take a bath or wash their hair; the last time you feed them; or rock them; or hold their hand on a walk…

 

But you know what? You can’t. You’re so busy moving along with them towards all of their new milestones and adventures that you don’t notice the passage of all these little moments.

 

Like the summer before I started 8^th grade. Eventually, it will be time to “start school.”

 

The older two kids are finishing at university this year...and living on their own...and, before long, looking for jobs.

Yet it still will be okay.