My daughter starts twelfth grade tomorrow. Her final year of high school. I remember her in first grade, her scrubbed little face above a rainbow striped mock turtleneck, her hair in two braids caught by blue plastic bubbles with butterfly clips at the ends. It's all going by much too fast. My son is well into his junior year of college already. All this to explain the need for cushions. I want to go somewhere breezy and tropical and rest my head on cerulean blue and rose and orange pillows and daydream all the moments I was too busy making happen to pay attention to. This is my lesson for this year. Don't lose the moments amid the college application rush and anxiety. She will go to a good college, probably even one we have heard of. The main thing is, she is still here with us. This is the now.
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I love these words. So full of wisdom and honesty. Yes. I am going to savor these moments, too.
ReplyDeleteUsually I read a few posts before I make up my mind to follow someone's blog, but tonight I read just this one and that's all I needed. This is now.
ReplyDeleteAnd I'm sure you will savor each and every moment.
ReplyDeletegrady doc, you are in the thick of it! enjoy.
ReplyDeleteTowanda, thank you! and welcome!
Elizabeth, i am going to try to foil my worry brain and just do it.
I love their baby faces!
ReplyDeleteAnd I'll remember to try and enjoy the now.
Your Friend, m.
Mark, i notice how my girl's baby face looks a little like your girl's baby face. something about their intensity.
ReplyDeleteI think that the last child's last year at home is the hardest. We are in full knowledge of how swiftly time has passed and is passing. Try to relax and enjoy it as much as possible. It is all part of the process of doing our job- raising up our children to let them go. Painful but necessary. And joyful, too, if we let it be.
ReplyDeleteso true.
ReplyDeletebeautiful pix, too, angella.
it's taken me a while to truly assimilate the meaning of this, but: our children will always be our children. they do get quite a bit bigger, and sometimes almost seem mature, but the smell of their skin, the look in their eyes when they are sad or frightened or brush up against the real world a little too intensely never, ever goes away. you will always be their mother.
xo susan
Ms. Moon, joyful if we let it be. Yes. Such wise words.
ReplyDeleteSusan t, you're right. we see their child selves in their growing up selves. they are men and women now, and yet to us they still seem so vulnerable sometimes. still, we have to let them fly, and find their own solutions. we do, we do, but it is harder some days than others.
Oh Angella, I am so with you on this journey. My baby began her senior year of high school today, as well. My heart is doing flip-flops at the thought of her ever being not here, not with me, yet I know it will happen before I can even take a deep enough breath.
ReplyDeleteCan I join you in leaning back on those beautifully colored pillows that have now become the background of your blog? I will remind you if you will remind me.
So much love.