18 Years In The Blink Of An Eye

 Eighteen years ago a little baby was about to make its way into the world.  Expecting our first child, we had spent months picking out just the right name for a little boy.  Using my full nesting powers I hand stitched enough tiny fish to string a border around the entire nursery.  Though baby would come a week before the due date, Hubby and I were ready.  And as the final push passed, and  we waited for little Ethan's arrival announcement, we heard the doctor exclaim, "It's a healthy baby GIRL!" 

Though her birth is about the only time she has been early for anything ever- she hasn't stopped surprising us, amazing us, and making us laugh nearly every day of the last 18 years.  Looking back to my journal entry on the day she was born I wrote, "Part of me is sad because she has been all mine for the past 9 months, and now I have to share her with the world."

As fate would have it, she turned out to be our only child and in ways more than she will ever know, she taught me to relax, to play, to heal, and to walk with the most certainty against the strongest currents. I now understand why so many people tell new moms, "It goes by so very fast", because indeed time gathers its moments and slips forward in a hurry. 

 

In the next few months, she will graduate high school and go to college.  In the afternoon, when she is not at home, I listen to the silence.  I try to imagine what this house will sound like without the whirr of a hair dryer, Nikki Minaj wars with her Dad, and her voice as it sings above her guitar strumming.  I smile thinking of her in September, venturing 300 miles away to a new chapter in a big city chasing after her dreams.

 I find myself stealing time back to those selfish lines of the day she was born. I am so overwhelmed with happiness and pride, but yet I am sad.  I am not yet ready to share her with the world.

  LOVE  &  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

The Creaky Step of Time

This staircase creaks something awful!  There are boards I know by heart that used to be a dead giveaway to my teen-aged curfew violations and though I am now 43, I still avoid those steps with cat-like agility. The sturdy banister is time worn and softer than cashmere, it's surface sanded by countless hands over two centuries. Steep steps that befuddle those not raised in an old house.  I can still hear the missed steps of visitors clutching the banister to steady their climb.  I still feel my own bruised tailbone from flying too fast down the stairs in socked feet, bouncing my way to the bottom.

 

Communion dresses, Confirmation dreses, prom dress after prom dress and eventually my bridal gown were carefully lifted so my toes would touch each step to avoid any mishaps. Shoes were always put on at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't realize then that my life would take me thousands of miles away from these creaky old stairs.  As the years passed I made it back home for holidays.  Tiny shoes of my daughter, new nieces, and nephews could be heard thundering up and down followed by the standard calls to be careful- though, remembering my own falls, I knew that the first careless slip was usually the last! And now those toddler steps are the lazy lunkering of teens on the verge of their own  high school proms.  So fleeting is time.

Sitting in my parents' house I realize I am on the threshold of change in my life. Until recently I have lived for everyone else- as all moms do.  I have made many school lunches, helped with homework, balanced a string of careers, maintained the home, fed a bazillion pets, and put 100,000 miles on my car just running errands and kids around town. But today, on vacation back in Connecticut with my only child on her final high school spring break, I realize that my soon to be empty nest is full of possibilities.

 

 

That man I married the day I carefully descended these steps with my fistfuls of lace, now travels the world and has afforded me the chance to travel with him.  Working full time for myself, I can spend more time visiting family whom I have missed so much over the past 20 years.  The greatest reward in life is family.  Having my daughter roll her eyes at her grandfather's jokes and crouch through the tiny corridors of this old New England house are priceless memories in the making.  Seeing my daughter skip the same stair steps that I did at her age, I hear her exclaim, "God, this stair CREAKS!".  Seeing her full grown, walking the stairs behind her grandmother, I can't help but think, "Yes, this stair creaks something beautiful!"

 

LOVE  &  TIME