Time to Grow Up

I remember the summer day when a high school friend pulled her car up next to me on Main Street. Tears careened down her checks as she told me of the profound sadness she was feeling. The back of her station wagon was packed with baby paraphernalia -car seats, pack and play, folding high chairs-she was on her way to donate them to good will. I had no children at the time and I wondered-how could she be so unhappy? Her three girls are all healthy and thriving and doing what babies are supposed to be doing….they’re growing up. What a blessing I thought-how can this be sad? That was until I had a child of my own. That was the game changer. I began to realize that each new step creates a beginning and an ending-and each one is felt with the all the joy and sadness a heart can hold.

Saying goodbye to the high chair and the ‘pack and play’ is saying goodbye to a precious bit of life that may never return- the last toddler hug, the first word and step, the first day of school-the college drop-off – it’s like riding an endless roller coaster of life which never returns to the same station. I get it now-I understand her tears completely-I have lived every moment-every hello and goodbye- every step and every word-every joy and every challenge -with the whole of my being.

Of course it is important to be thankful for age-for another birthday -for life-because it is a gift not granted to everyone-and I do-I really do try to live on that page-but not without deep longing and yearning at times for yesterday. Can I pack my daughter’s school lunch one more time? Can I help my mom up the stairs to my kitchen one more time? Can I carry my dog out to see the stars one more time? Though yesterday has come and gone, how can I slow those darn ‘circles down’?

And now I face my own aging-with a discomfort I never imagined-I look longingly at every 30-year-old that passes by and part of me longs to be her-to start again-to have so much more time to look forward to. I see the wrinkles and the so-called beauty marks-the crow’s feet and the marionette lines-the gray roots and the fading eyesight. Yes, I know it is a gift denied to many-I appreciate each breath and each morning my feet hit the floor. Yet this passage of time-the daily steps toward eternity- is a lot to absorb.

Do I pack my car with the ice-skates and the snow shoes-the the cross-country skis and head off to good will-living carefully and settling in for a long winter’s nap. Or do I go out-fighting? Welcoming all the possibilities I can- new challenges, new knowledge and new interests? Cherishing the wrinkles and the gray hair. Leaning into the wisdom I’ve gained on the journey and looking forward to all that may lie ahead.

This amazing gift of life is so fleeting- so numbered- so temporary. And it is with this awareness that I try to approach the miracle of each new day- each sunrise and sunset, each family dinner, and snowfall, each lunch with friends, each beach walk, each new adventure - experiencing them fully, holding onto each moment - knowing that I indeed will never be this young again.