Wednesday, February 27, 2013


I have a few talents, as I mentioned elsewhere in the archives.  Change?  It's not one of them.  It's different, it's unknown, it makes me cold.  Not the kind of cold that leaves you comforted by a warm blanket, the kind of cold that leaves you chilly in your soul.  I can change my hair color without missing a beat, I can change my mind about what to eat for dinner, I can even change the book I'm reading if I don't find it satisfying.  It's major life changes I don't really like, cringe when I see them coming, and am never really sure how to prepare for.

I've already written about how sick my little Sparty is right now.  He did really well for a few weeks, but last night things changed.  It was hard for him to jump on the couch, hard for him to get comfortable laying down, everything was just a little off.  I'm not going to kid myself.  I know a major change is headed our way and my eyes are opened wide enough to know that this change is coming quickly- maybe even light speed quickly. I've known for a while it would happen, that my cuddly little guy is slowly slipping away. I thought I was prepared, turns out I'm not. 

Watching him fade makes me realize how fleeting every moment is.  I remember watching soap operas when I was a teen, anyone else remember the lines: "Like sands through the hour glass, these are the days of our lives"? As I write this now, I see the hour glass of my life and the sand tumbling all too quickly through.  For eleven years I have lived in this home, a fantastic friend and neighbor, only steps away.  For ten years I have lived in this home, two little dogs following me room to room.  For six years I have lived in this home, the sounds of little footsteps padding through the hallways.

The fantastic friend and neighbor is moving tomorrow, I am saddened to see her go. One of my little dogs approaches the end of his life, I am melancholy for my immenint loss.  The little footsteps that once padded through the halls are not so little anymore, they get bigger every day. 

I wouldn't change any of these moments for any amount of money.  But, being the uber sensitive gal that I am, they all play a number on me when the moment slips away.  I see the grains of sand as my moments in time and see them slipping through, escaping the bottleneck, and landing atop the other precious life memories who made me who I am.  Even if I could put a stopper in the hourglass, stop time from moving forward, I know the sands of time must keep moving.  If anything, as I've aged I've learned to relish the moments as we live them.  I may not sound like I'm doing much relishing today, but I'm trying to make a point to remember why I loved each of those major landmarks in my life...

For eleven years in this home, I grew a friendship that has been extremely important to myself and my children.  I didn't know it when my neighbor moved in, but she was going to help me through a few very trying moments.  She was a shining beacon when I was having difficulty becoming pregnant; pep talks, spirit bossts, hand holding- she did it.  When my kids were born and grew, our kids became almost inseperable.  Through countless conversations at one or the other's kitchen table, she inspired me as a parent and gifted me with her friendship. What a gift.  I knew it then, I know it now.

For eleven years in this home, I was followed from room to room by two of the most loving little dogs I could imagine.  They loved me when I didn't always love myself, they comforted me when my dreams of having a child were only that - dreams, they have looked at me with a warmth most people can't muster.  Every challenge I've faced over the last ten years was faced, not only with a loving husband and family to talk me through, but with the wordless love and gestures only a dog could offer- gestures that soothed my heart and soul. Could I ask for anything more? I'm not prepared to lose one of the pups, but I am content in knowing that he will love me fiercly until the very end.

For six years, I have listened to the sounds of childhood and heard those sounds age each day.  As I write this now, I hear raucos shouts and squeals of joy, and size thirteen feet running through the upstairs hallway.  If I could freeze my girls for a moment in time, I wouldn't.  Even though I get misty eyed (ok, maybe waterfall eyed, rainstorm eyed, terrential downpour eyed) at the thought of them growing up and beginning their own lives, I cherish every day of the process. What a contradiction I am.  Despise change and love it all at the same time?  It is ebery moment of their six years of life that make me adore them more every day, and it is in their growing that I am getting the most satisfaction.  They are growing.  They are GROWING!  They are not helpless little babies.  They are people who can tie their own shoes, brush their own teeth, and read their own books.  My girls, who will forever be 'babies in my heart' (as I tell them all the time) are smart and capable and amazing.  Isn't that whay every mother wants?

Stopper the hourglass? No. At first it sounds like a great idea, but the next great moment of life would never come if the sands stopped moving.  I know there are people and events and moments yet to be encountered that could change my life just as drastically as those I've mentioned in this note.  I just have to be willing to let the sands flow, keep my eyes open for the new possibilities, and await the days of my life that are yet to come. 

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