It feels like this winter didn’t want to end. Even now, it is May, and snow flew through the skies in our New England town yesterday. I stared out in disbelief, hoping it was not snow but the petals from our blossomed cherry tree.
I counted the months remaining until fall returned. Not nearly enough, not nearly enough.
The warmth is going to come and go much more quickly than the winter. But then that will go again and warmth will meet us once more.
I’ve been thinking this way about the seasons of motherhood. How quickly these seasons go by, yet in the moment it feels like forever. One day of incessant crying is enough to send me over and telling myself, “it’s only temporary, you will get through this day,” is not enough. It is, in fact, a short period of time in this life.
I remember so well the moments with my older two kids. The crying, that is. They have all been sensitive kids with emotions too large for their immature brains to handle. This season will pass and all of these hard days will be gone.
Unfortunately, though, with the hard days go the belly laughs, the smiles, the hugs and kisses. The hard days of crying lead to hard days of real life lessons, learning to handle even more difficult situations, and being an effective role model in them. The hard days of crying still mean the days of snuggling, reading books, and singing songs while the little, wiggly bodies slow down, their breathing becomes deeper, their eye lids heavier.
It is all so fleeting. These moments of life. Life itself, really. There is no way I can tell my child that I will be alive for a long time and not feel like I am lying to him. There are too many variables. Too much death in this world from causes that are not natural, not planned. I try to be honest and tell him that we really don’t know when our end will come and that is why it is so important to live now.
To really live.
To breathe the air and feel the sun. To laugh and run. To play. To walk barefoot through the mud and be connected with our Earth. To plant a garden and treat all creatures with care. To stop and look at the frog that is hopping, the toad that is croaking. The chicken who has found a plump worm. To stop and take it all in.
Because everything is temporary.