Sunday, 15 June 2014


The other day I was on a walk with my daughter. We were at the lake and she wanted to go exploring together. I was all for it. So she grabbed her walking stick, I filled my water bottle and off we went in to the wild. There is nothing like checking out new territory. Around every corner awaits a surprise. The sun was hot on our faces and arms as we trudged along talking and laughing. She is growing up so fast and I can’t help but want to hang on to these moments for as long as I can. We stopped and explored a giant ant hill. We talked about what it must look like underground and how fun it would be to be able to shrink down and explore all the tunnels and caverns the ants had made. We saw a few Painted Turtles along the way, and she fearlessly reached out and stroked its shell, absolutely mesmerized.

 What was so special about this time together is that it was just her and I. I really haven’t realized that since I've returned to being a working Mom, our alone time together has really suffered. I’m always in a rush, going here and there and everywhere. Rushing to get supper ready, rushing to do the housework, off to work, off to school. Downtime is rare. But these are the moments I can’t get back. She won’t always be excited by the ants or the turtles. She may not always want to talk my ear off about every little thing that happened at school. In a few years she may not want to go for a walk, holding my hand. And all too soon that day will come and she’s going to be gone. Off on her own, embarking on her own journeys. Just as my son did a week ago. He has left home to begin his career and start his new life. He has his own apartment, new job, cooking his own suppers and paying his own bills. He is a grown man. It feels as if I blinked, and it was over. After we moved him in, I got in my car and looked up to where I thought his window must be. I turned the key in the ignition, put the car in gear and pulled away, leaving my first born behind. My mind flashed back to 16 years before when I put him on the school bus for the first time. I still remember his little red back pack too big for his tiny frame. I remember his jeans being a touch too long and that his shoe lace on his little shoe was undone as he climbed up those big old stairs on the yellow bus. He glanced back at me looking for reassurance and I bravely smiled and motioned him to go on even though I wanted to snatch him up and take him home.  Then I  could just see the top of his blonde head through the windows as he made his way down the aisle. He found a seat and looked out at me as I waved and the bus pulled out and away, my baby on board.  I cried my eyes out. Years later I did the same with my other son, and then my daughter. All those moments felt exactly the same way. As if a big shift had taken place and that they had taken another step out in to the world without me. And this is as it should be. They need to gain their independence and find their way. When my middle child goes to camp on his own this summer for the first time, it’s going to be hard. For me, and for him. But these are all the moments. The moments of growing up and maturing.

 But for this mom, I want to cherish and enjoy every special moment, no matter how big or small. I want a few more walks to look at the ant hills and turtles and talk about flowers and kids on the playground. I want a few more Christmas concerts listening to my son as he plays in the band, my heart swelling with pride. Time moves by so quickly it feels as if I can't catch my breath. It's like moment after moment is slipping away. It's not a bad thing, its the journey of life. But just once in awhile  I wish time would slow down just a little, so I can savor the special moments for a little longer.

1 comment:

  1. I had a chance to catch up on your blog today and this one got me choked up. You're a wonderful writer Danielle!