I Haven't Missed It

Like most mothers, I have a frequent, nagging fear. I fear that time is moving too quickly and that I’m missing the moments in front of me. For some women, this fear is a legitimate reality. Especially in western culture, we tend to be over-busy, pre-occupied with our phones, and distracting ourselves and our kids with television and screen time on a regular basis. However, I’ve been learning recently in counseling that it is impossible to be fully present to every moment of our life. And if we are battling intense grief, or processing through trauma, it becomes even more important for us to have mental and emotional breaks from being ‘fully engaged’. 

 

I am 35 years old, my childbearing years have abruptly ended, my baby girl will turn 3 in a week. My oldest son is 8 years old, and we have yet to live in one place for more than 1-2 years at a time. I’m scared that it’s all going too fast. I’m scared that I’m ‘missing it.’ I’m scared that I can’t seem to soak in every moment, and that time is slipping through my fingers. 

 

But I realized the other day as I was looking through pictures with the kids – all of them piled up in my bed… 

 

I haven’t missed it. 

 

Yes, I’ve had moments that I couldn’t be fully available to them the way I wanted. 

Yes, I’ve had moments and days (and even weeks this past January) where I couldn’t even be physically with them. 

Yes, I’ve made mistakes, and I’ve messed up opportunities. 

But that is LIFE. 

I am imperfect and life is messy.

 

But I haven’t missed it. 

 

I’ve been WITH them almost every day of their young lives – holding, snuggling, singing, praying, crying, laughing, tickling, feeding, playing, bathing, running, sitting, reading, being… 

 

We’ve traveled, moved, adventured, and mourned together.

We’ve been sick, learned foreign language and culture, hurt, and healed together.

We’ve made new friends, said goodbye, face-timed, and celebrated together.

We’ve camped and hiked and ridden in cars or airplanes for hours and hours together.

We’ve reveled in beauty, fought, forgiven, and persevered together. 

 

I haven’t missed it. 

 

But I can’t freeze time either. 

 

The best I can do is take a photo or write down words. 

These things have the illusion of freezing time, but our kids still grow up, and we still grow older. Time continues, whether I like it or not. 

So I’m finding that there is an acceptance and a surrender that must come. 

 

I must surrender to being a small human in the vast expanse of time. 

I must accept that I can’t keep my babies wrapped safely in my arms forever.

I must let them go. 

 

But there is a freedom in the letting go that I’m just beginning to grasp. 

 

There is a freedom in celebrating their milestones and achievements. 

There is a freedom in accepting the limitations of our finite lives on earth, full of messy mistakes and imperfect moments. 

There is even freedom in mourning the end of a season, and then moving forward into the next season, letting life unfold as it will. 

 

There is also peace in realizing that I haven’t missed it! 

 

As long as I have breath, I will continue to show up for myself and my family, for the strangers at my door, and for my friends down the street and around the world. 

I will continue to be present to all the moments that I can, and give myself grace and compassion for the moments I can’t.

 

I am here. Right now. For this time. This season. These people. And I’m not going to miss it.