Slow down, you move too fast,
You’ve got to make the morning last,
Just kickin’ down the cobble-stones,
Looking for fun and feelin’ groovy,
Feeling groovy ~Simon & Garfunkle, 59th Street Bridge album
That has always been one of my favorite songs…I can’t tell you why but when I hear it, it just makes me feel good. It’s a happy song, and we all know how I feel about my happy.
As I’ve gotten older (and sober) it’s taken on new meaning. Life moves so fast. Don’t blink. (I love that Kenny Chesney song too.) Slow down. Breathe.
Yesterday my son sent me this text…
“Do you realize that there is a point at which you and dad put us down as kids and never picked us up again?”
So I sent him this text…
“I hate you so much right now.”
Followed immediately by…
Here’s a fact. I live to embarrass my children and they live to make me cry sentimental tears. Well played my son…well played.
These are the times when I feel blessed that my drinking didn’t interfere with the time in their lives when I could pick them up. Snuggle them and make it all better. Run to greet them when I returned from a business trip and swing them around in my arms. Turn them upside down and listen as they screamed with joy. I was present then and when I read a text like that, I thank the good Lord that I was.
I just didn’t realize how quickly time was passing. I was too busy being in it. I tried to slow down, to make memories, to capture moments. But it was hard. When the girls were young it wasn’t too bad. Two young girls, one I only had part-time, the other an old soul who never gave anyone a moment’s concern. Then the boys came along. All of a sudden I had a house filled with Legos and Pokemon and things moved very fast. Some days it was all I could do to fall into bed, exhausted, only to wake and do it all again the next day. Lather, rinse, repeat.
I’ve never regretted one single second of time since the day the first one came into my life and I never took it for granted (okay, maybe a little with my “old soul girl” but I was young and really stupid). When people would stop me and say, “Wow, you’ve got your hands full,” I would reply, “Yes and they are filled with love.” I meant it too. But time still went way too fast. It marched on in spite of the roadblocks I put up.
Now I sit, as an almost, empty nester, shaking my head and wondering how I missed that moment. If I had been aware that it was the last time I would ever put them down, would I have done it differently? Would I have held on just one more minute and savored the moment just a little more? Tried to stretch the time?
No. I would have put them down and stepped away and let them stand on their own – because that’s my job. And I’ve done it well.
Still sucks though.
Unless you’re my husband. When I read him the text yesterday his response was, “Oh yeah and when I put them down I said thank God you can walk by yourself and I don’t have to fucking carry you anymore!”
Sometimes I hate him so much right now too.