Just yesterday I was holding you on my hip. Swaying from side to side. A motion, it seems, gifted to all new mothers. As natural as breathing in and out.
Or so it seems like yesterday.
Wasn’t I just bemoaning the rough night I had, rocking you in the midnight hours? Pacing a dark house with you cradled in my arms?
Today there are only hints of the baby you once were. Pictures. A favorite blanket.
Baby teeth have gone, crooked smiles have moved in.
We no longer need the stroller, diaper bag, and absurd amount of gear that babies often travel with.
The very objects I used to curse, I now long for. A symbol of the short years you spent in our protective circle.
Now you’re out there. We must share you with the world.
It’s baseball games, soccer tournaments, homework, and the dinner rush for us.
You ache to get older, taller, stronger, and faster.
We beg for time to stand still.
These days, you’re like a hummingbird. We revel in the sight of you when you’re still for those sweet 30 seconds.
Beauty in motion.
We’re no different than other families struggling to connect during these hectic growing years.
Weddings, funerals, birthdays, and graduations bring us near.
The time spent away is brought sharply into focus by the height of our growing children.
Wow, when did he get so tall?!?
Babies are graduating, moving out, and moving on.
Time is literally slipping through our aging fingers as we share stories and reminisce about the good old days.
We hug and chat.
Like it was yesterday.
The lines on our faces tell the stories, but our eyes reveal our longing.
For the baby squeals. Baby steps. Baby cuddles
We know now not to begrudge the present.
Because someday, maybe even tomorrow, we will wish for yesterday once again.
So we vow to ourselves, let us make today a yesterday to remember.
