Time Marches Ahead
My youngest son just turned 14. My oldest son is looking at colleges. This cannot be happening.
Though I, of course, haven’t aged, my sons continue to grow like weeds. How can these boys be nearly grown men when I am still so young? Well … except for my aching back, my hair that MUST be colored more often than I’d like, my inability to stay up all night, my hands that show more big, squishy veins every day, … okay, maybe physically I’ve grown older.
But in my mind I’m still 23, the age I married the love of my life. The children I carried on my hip now tower over me. They have to bend down to hug me (when I can convince them to hug me, that is). The boy who read books with me at bedtime is writing essays for college applications. The toddler I pulled around the neighborhood in a wagon waves as he drives off to work.
I try not to think about it, this stage of life I’m in. I deny that my husband and me are, in effect, helping to find and fund my son’s home for the next four years … apart from us. Without my permission, my mind is tracking the countdown until Fall 2020. There is limited time left.
And it’s not just this college-bound son that is leaving. This is the last year before my youngest enters high school. High school! That can’t be right. His voice that I struggle to differentiate from his Dad’s over the phone says it is right.
I could cross my arms and defy the march of time, the stealer of future days of children under our roof, but I will not. I will capture each day, drinking in the preciousness of it, knowing the days are numbered … as all our days are numbered. I will linger over inside jokes, shared meals, trips to here and there. I will treasure rare hugs and late night conversations.
“This is the day the Lord has made. We will rejoice and be glad in it.” Psalm 118:24
Though each day brings me closer to an empty nest, I choose to rejoice and be glad.
Besides, if I’m honest, I’m looking forward to the freedom that comes with an empty nest. I want to enjoy it while I’m still so young … in my mind anyway.
