This post was written for Stream of Consciousness Saturday. This week, Linda prompted us to write about time.
Eighteen Years In A Blink
Time. There’s always so little and at times, far too much. Like when you’re pregnant and everyone else around you says the pregnancy has gone by so fast but you are seriously ONLY in week 28 and there are still 12 weeks to go and you already feel huge. Those are probably the longest weeks I can remember. The last two or three months of pregnancy. Then there’s the interminable dark hours in the middle of the night when, no matter what you do, you can’t get the screaming baby to sleep or to even just settle down. But honestly, looking back on those times, I wonder how it all came to this point so quickly.
18 years and I feel like there just isn’t enough time. I need more time to tell her how much I love her and to impart my motherly wisdom on her. I need more time to just spend with her and be with her, laughing and listening to music. I need more time to cry with her over flighty friend issues that come and go quicker than I can blink, but when she’s devastated by it, I’m sure it seems like her world will end. I need more time with my baby girl before she flies three thousand miles away. But the time has flown and we are now on the very day where we fly away and within a short span of four days, I will board another plane on my return trip home, leaving her behind. (I posted a while back that we were going to drive to North Carolina, but after some serious consideration, we decided that flying was the best option. I’m somewhat sad that we won’t have three days in the car together, filling up space in our hearts and minds with each other’s company, but we do have the next four days and a long-ass plane ride! Well, the longest one I’ve ever been on anyway, which tells you a little something about my travelling experience, or lack thereof.)
In all honesty, I am so happy for her. So excited to witness her growth and maturity. We went to dinner a few days ago and I told her we all had it backwards. She wasn’t going to call every day and she wasn’t going to freak out and want to come home in a month. No, most likely I will be the one calling her every day and bugging the shit out of her until she yells at me to leave her alone. She really is far more ready for this than I must admit I am.
It helps me to cling to this moment right now. It is truly the only one that matters. Be present every moment and enjoy the person you are with immensely and immeasurably. Give everything you have to the present. The next four days, I know they will fly by as time is wont to do, but I will make each and every moment I have with my daughter the best they can be. (It sounds like I’m saying goodbye to her for the last time, which I’m not, but it sure as hell feels like it in this moment!)
One of my favorite movies is Meet Joe Black and this post and the subject of time made me think of a quote from the movie. So, I will leave you with that because it seems so fitting. It is William Parrish giving his birthday speech, his final speech.
“I thought I was going to sneak away tonight. What a glorious night. Every face I see is a memory. It may not be a perfectly perfect memory. Sometimes we had our ups and downs. But we’re all together, and you’re mine for a night. And I’m going to break precedent and tell you my one candle wish: that you would have a life as lucky as mine, where you can wake up one morning and say, ‘I don’t want anything more.’ Sixty-five years. Don’t they go by in a blink?”