The Hourglass
The dust kicks up behind the car that disappears down the driveway. Just a quick run home visit for a car repair-I’ll take it. Warm cookies and a favorite meal waited for her yesterday. All the cliche Mom things-I did them. A bonus fours years at home while she went to school in state were so delightful. Coffee every morning together and impromptu shopping trips were normal. I lived all those moments knowing that each was a flick of sand filtering through this hourglass called life.
As She turned and took off down the road my mind went to the first time I saw her leaving me with just glowing taillights. She was 16 and driving off alone for the first time. No one ever really explained how odd that feels. For the first time ever your child is alone, in a car. Your gut reaction: terror because you feel like an irresponsible parent who just let their toddler out on the streets. The second thought: I’m so glad I have an errand person now.
Errands turn into jobs and trips and more Independence, filling up that hourglass of time. The methodical pile just mesmerizes you into a hypnotic state of sameness. That all this will stay-the same. Just like the moments when she was little, singing through the house, making crafts, having parties, being a silly kid.
It was all going to stay the same.Logically, we know that’s not true, but in those sand piling moments you must believe it. If you didn’t, you’d lose your mind at the speed at which life is traveling.
I thought I’d be fine, just a few hours down the road and we can be together but the distance of 2 hours or 15 days wouldn’t make the daily absence of life under the same roof any easier. We want our children to crawl, walk, run, drive, live life. We want them to go beyond what they thought they could accomplish but it doesn’t hurt less. It doesn’t make the echoes of memories in the silence ring any less louder in our hearts. All the times you are told how fast it will go...how they were right. The best hugs, the sweetest laughs, the moments of just being are some of the richest moments we are given.
Watch the hourglass closely, it fills up fast. Too fast.
As She turned and took off down the road my mind went to the first time I saw her leaving me with just glowing taillights. She was 16 and driving off alone for the first time. No one ever really explained how odd that feels. For the first time ever your child is alone, in a car. Your gut reaction: terror because you feel like an irresponsible parent who just let their toddler out on the streets. The second thought: I’m so glad I have an errand person now.
Errands turn into jobs and trips and more Independence, filling up that hourglass of time. The methodical pile just mesmerizes you into a hypnotic state of sameness. That all this will stay-the same. Just like the moments when she was little, singing through the house, making crafts, having parties, being a silly kid.
It was all going to stay the same.Logically, we know that’s not true, but in those sand piling moments you must believe it. If you didn’t, you’d lose your mind at the speed at which life is traveling.
I thought I’d be fine, just a few hours down the road and we can be together but the distance of 2 hours or 15 days wouldn’t make the daily absence of life under the same roof any easier. We want our children to crawl, walk, run, drive, live life. We want them to go beyond what they thought they could accomplish but it doesn’t hurt less. It doesn’t make the echoes of memories in the silence ring any less louder in our hearts. All the times you are told how fast it will go...how they were right. The best hugs, the sweetest laughs, the moments of just being are some of the richest moments we are given.
Watch the hourglass closely, it fills up fast. Too fast.
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