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Filled

"She had seen their birth and the birth of her love for them as miraculous, but it was just as miraculous when they first smiled, first sat up, first babbled a sound that resembled, of course, mama. The tedious days were filled with miracles. When a baby first looks at you; when it gets excited about seeing a ray of light and like a dog pawing a gleam, tries to capture it with his hand; or when it laughs that deep, unselfconscious gurgle; or when it cries and you pick it up and it clings sobbing to you, saved from some terrible shadow moving across the room, or a loud clang in the street, or perhaps, already, a bad dream: then you are -- happy is not the precise word -- filled."
Marilyn French
The Women's Room












        How can something so precious be so achingly fleeting? I could hold this child forever and it would not be long enough. Each new baby seems to grow faster than the last. Each child seems in such a hurry to catch up to their older siblings, and the oldest ones, chomping at the bit to be "grown-ups".
       Slow down, my loves. Easy does it. No need to rush this beautiful gift that is childhood. All too soon the time will come when you will no longer fit so perfectly in my arms, when I will no longer be needed to wipe the dribbles from your chin or to help you dry your chubby fingers, or stroke your hair, or sing you to sleep. All too soon, you will be challenging my rules, questioning my authority and grappling with questions that have no easy answers.
       Not that this is a bad thing. Growing up can be a glorious adventure, even if (or maybe because) the process is fraught with uncertainty and turmoil. The trick, I believe, is not in curbing the aging process, but in soaking up all the innocence and magical joy of youth so that it tempers the harshness that too often characterizes the "adult world". To remember, to savor the simplicity and dependency of childhood so that it may lighten your heart when the responsibility of maturity weighs heavy on you. 

       My wish for you little ones is not that I might keep you forever young and helpless. My wish for you is that I might impress upon your hearts the beauty and wonder that is to be cherished throughout each season of your life. I want to hold you close now and instill within you a reverence for your life, no matter how chaotic, or frustrating or disappointing it may feel at times. I want you to be. . .  happy is not the precise word. . .

filled.





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Comments

  1. arianneSeptember 18, 2015 at 9:57 PM

    I'm in awe that you can craft such a poetic post in the midst of the chaos of life. I'm rolling that word around in my mind--"Filled."

    ReplyDelete
  2. Bethany C.September 19, 2015 at 1:28 PM

    I learned from the best! Crafting poetry from chaos seems to be your specialty, Arianne.

    ReplyDelete

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The joys of life taste sweeter when they're shared. Please share your joy by leaving me a comment. I love to hear your stories-- the joys as well as the sorrows.
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--- Bethany

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