It feels like that is the story of my life...being behind on things....at least for the last 20 yrs. or so. Funny that those years seem to have flown by so rapidly, like a blink if you will. One day my firstborn baby is just minutes old, and then, POOF, he is 22 yrs. old.
When my babies were babies, older women often commented how quickly the years go by. At the time I felt pretty overwhelmed with feeding, dressing, cleaning, washing,... that I just wanted the dependency on me to let up, just a little bit. Funny thing is that it felt kinda sudden. Like one day they needed me for every little thing, and overnight they needed me for very little.
The truth is, their needing me didn't really go away, it simply changed. What I was needed for became more important, and was much weightier than matching their shirt and pants, or tying their shoes. Fulfilling physical needs was bypassed by the the spiritual, education, emotional and mental needs.
Though I have often joked about being a referee all day long, for years on end, these past few years have really brought me into reality.
I've always known my children were supposed to grow up, and go out to have a life of their own. Make no mistake knowledge and reality are not the same thing. Reality has alot more attatched to it.
Along the way we dream of what we want for our children, how we pray their lives will turn out, and plead with Father to shield them from repeating our mistakes. Moms have many hopes and dreams for their babies. You look at the newborn babe in you arms and wonder who will they be when they grow up, hoping that they will get saved and love and serve God with their whole heart, mind, strength. With each passing milestone, you look forward to them reaching the next, and the next, and the next,....and then, without any warning, you realize with dread, that every milestone they reach takes them that much closer to the day when they will hug and kiss you goodbye. It matters not how long they will be gone....hours, days, weeks, months or years....that pang in your heart is unmistakeable. It can't be swept aside.
Time doesn't "heal" the ache, it just lets you get used to the empty place they leave behind. And some nights you still cry yourself to sleep.
