I can feel the clenching of my hands. My fingers tightening their grip, even as this is slipping away. Each key stroke marks the clock, as minutes tick tock by. Before I'm quite prepared, little bodies will throw themselves at me. Awake is like a shock of water thrown on an unsuspecting victim. One minute quiet, the next shrieks of joy and laughter. I could not tell you which I prefer. Only, that in the stillness I can linger. Here, they are young forever. Here, I am just a mother. Here in this place, we will never age. When the silence is broken, we must advance. Each to their tasks, me the parent, the chef, the referee, the tickle monster, the teacher, the reminder of truth. They to pull every piece of the house and their world into imagination, to be taught, to be kind, to play as hard as they can until they fall exhausted into their beds. Before I'm ready this day will be finished. I'll pull together the chores saved for solitude. I'll kiss little cheeks, knowing that one day they'll be grown. I'll pause a moment to rub my nose against the perfectly smooth, round cherub face with their bow mouths and lengths of lash. I'll sweep some hair to the side. I'll pull up the blankets. Then I'll flick the last light and this scene will be filled with darkness. And each of us will grow in the night.
Tomorrow we will be one day older. One more day of change. It will never be the same as today. Tomorrow we will all have grown up. But, I'll cherish the quiet. The moments. The peace. So thankful for the overwhelming blessings of today. I'll put off a little longer, until I wake and it's upon me, the moment they are gone. When goodnight is to an empty house ringing of voices and cheer. The echo of life that grew up here.
But somewhere in my youth, or childhood. I MUST have done something GOOD.
(Sound of Music)
