Open Your Eyes

Do you ever have those days when you run from here to there and are thinking about this and that, and before you know it, the sun has dipped below the horizon, little ones are being tucked into their beds and you look back and wonder. . . where did the time go? Today was one of those days for me. A day spent in survival mode as the minutes ticked by and I didn’t even realize what I was missing. It is in these quiet moments before I lay my head on my own pillow that I am over-whelmed by the reality that this is the only chance I get. . .  today is the only today I will ever have.

So I take some time to look at some of the pictures from our day.  I look at them as if I wasn’t even there. . .because on days like this my body was there, but my mind was elsewhere.  I look and see the intense work that Charlie did on our driveway. 

 

I remember how he involved himself completely in the equally spaced lines that spanned the width of our driveway and exclaimed with excitement, “I can’t wait to show Daddy!”  The message is clear to me, yet again. . . 

Today I watched my little guy as he pumped his legs back and forth on the swing and was completely in that moment.  

I wondered to myself what was going on in that little head of his.  I wondered if he was thinking about what  happened earlier in the day or what will happen later or was he really in. that. moment.?  That sounds so nice.  Does being an adult make this an impossibility?  Maybe such questions seem naive coming from an adult. . . of course we have to think about many, many things.  But let me tell you. . . when I look at my two little ones, who are getting less and less little each day. . . all I want is this moment.  

 I know that the days are coming when these beautiful children will not want to hold my hand or need my kisses to feel better.  I know that sooner than I would like, my lap won’t be the first place they run for comfort and “I can do it by myself” will be more frequent.  I have no doubt that the days will come when they will close their doors and not need me to tuck them in, sing a song, read a book, and say a prayer before they can rest at night.  I am fully aware that they will vent to each other and their friends about how lame their mom is or they will walk ten paces before or behind not to be seen with me.  The days will end when all of their questions will be directed at me because, of course, mommy will know.  These days will end. . . just as they are supposed to. . . And I will let them end,  not because I want them to, but because it is best for them.  And I love them that much.  

But those days are not over yet. I have an opportunity to be present in each and every moment right where they are.  The sweet tender moments when, in their innocence, they can be only in that moment.  Today I am reminded that I have to choose to be in the moment because to do so does not come naturally to me.  I look at Charlie and Chanelle and am amazed.  

So, I continue on this journey doing my best to honor that gift.  Maybe I didn’t do it perfectly today. . . but tomorrow is another day and how blessed I feel to get to do it again. . .