Trying to match their rhythm when they reach the age to run
“It all happened so fast.”
That’s what I thought as my oldest daughter’s lips said that she had found her wedding dress.
As she turned around to see the back of it in the mirror, and I saw that, more than just her lips, her face also said “Yes.”
I have thought it many times as the years have passed;
With each new milestone that’s come before I felt quite ready.
High school, her driver’s license, graduation, and her moving out;
Or the way she now talks about having children of her own.
Feathery, dandelion wishes – There one day and then
They’re gone.
They start out small, holding our hand, with four steps to our single one,
But before long, their strides match ours, and without realizing what happened,
that four to our one footstep rhythm
means that now while we walk they run.
I’ve always been mindful of the passing of time.
It’s what helped me get through really difficult years of mothering, when the days felt tedious, and the thanks felt pretty scant.
I’ve reminded myself that one day all this would be gone, and I’d miss even this part.
The naked Barbies strewn around, the goldfish crumbs in my car…
My husband and his handvac say he’d never miss those,
but you don’t believe you will do lots of things until one day
you are.
So I’ve learned to take the photos, even when they pretend it’s something that they hate.
The way the sun hits their skin,
Their true happy smile,
A time they’ll want to remember someday.
The other day I took a photo of my fourteen year old, and she rolled her eyes and told me,
“There. You got one. Now that’s it. We’re all done.”
“Done for how long?” I laughed at her,
knowing when she wasn’t looking I would resume, because I see beauty in some moments she doesn’t even know that she exudes.
“Now that you’ve got that one, just use it for everything you do after this. Every birthday message, even my funeral slideshow.
It’ll just be the ONE.”
“Whatever,” I mumbled.
We both know I will do what I do.
I know that one day she, too, will think
“it all happened so fast,” and she’ll want to look back on her life, and what made her who she is.
I know that she will see things from a much different view then, and so I’ll line the path
with images I’ve captured of memories made;
Times we ached,
Times we made each other laugh.
There is a boy she thought she secretly admires that works up the road at Burger King.
Polite boy with brown eyes and puffy hair.
The exact kind that she likes.
We don’t even know his name.
So, now I find excuses to go through the drive through there.
The first time I did I saw her try to hide a look of surprise that that’s something that I’d do.
I saw her glance at the side mirror to check on the status of her hair.
I ordered a Coke, and she asked me quietly who it was even for.
“No one, really,” I answered with a smile.
“I just wanted an excuse to drive you through and I didn’t want to order anything more.”
So we drove through the drive through line not really wanting anything
but for her to see if that boy was working and,
while she did,
for me to watch and forever remember the look that was on her face.
Take the photos,
buy the Coke,
make note of the sun
because those are the things that slow their steps to match yours again when they might want to run.
This is how I keep the rhythm,
How I tuck away the things that last;
Because I know that any day now another time will come that it will have all happened so fast
This article was written by a guest blogger. The opinions expressed here are those of the writer and do not reflect the opinions of Bob Lacey, Sheri Lynch or the Bob & Sheri show.
Mom Outnumbered
Hi! My name is Kerri Green; Wife to Justin, and mother to four highly entertaining daughters -Alena, Chloe, Tessa, and Paige. I am an artist, a writer, a daycare provider, a lover of people, a believer that there is humor and beauty in all things, and the author of Mom Outnumbered; a blog about real family life, and my observations of it. My goal is to make people laugh, to be there for them when they cry, and most importantly, to let them know that they are not at all alone in this up and down world. I live with my family in Sebastopol California, and I am opening the window into our life. So welcome! Come in. Sit down. Just please don’t mind the mysterious wet spots.
