Hello friends! You may be wondering why I would include a picture of my middle child with a blog post about the things that scare me, but when I was thinking about the subject matter of this post, this picture seemed so very appropriate. We were seated in a church watching a friend of the family get married. What you can’t see is that my daughter is looking at the bride. Look at the intensity of that gaze, the wonder on her face. I can tell you with absolute certainty, that my daughter was at that moment, fast forwarding her own life to a point when she will be that beautiful bride, wearing an elegant gown and living the magic fairy tale that all young girls believe a wedding to be.
I don’t think I am going to tell you anything about my journey towards publication today, rather, I would like to share with you a life lesson that I recieved a painful reminder about this weekend. On Saturday morning, my dear friend Susan (we hope to some day be sisters-in-law) lost her mother to cancer. Just one day before Mother’s Day, she lost hers forever. I can’t imagine the pain of loss she must be feeling, but I did sit in the sunlight for a long time after I heard the news, reflecting on my own life. I was ashamed by some of the ways that I have allowed life to get in the way of living. It seems that the older we get, the faster it goes. There’s always some reason not to make it back home for the summer, work or finances. We always promise ourselves that we will make it next year. Because of geography and work schedules I am lucky to see my sister, my only sibling, once a year. I am fortunate enough to make it to all of my kids games and performances, but I think of those who don’t get to. We spend so much time trying to make it in this world, to achieve the things that we think are important, that we seldom realize that the truly important things are often the things that we already have.
I have been so overwhelmed by the deadlines that I face to make Ad Naseum a reality, that I found myself just looking forward to a time when the work would be done, stories written and edited, book launch taken care of and so forth. I was breaking my own advice that I have given so many times, that we must make sure we take the time to enjoy the ride. I teach my little redhead to not hurry towards adulthood, to embrace being a child for as long as she can, but am I really any different than that wistful little girl wishing herself into her own future? I think I will slow down now and look around, my own mother won’t be here forever, nor will my children remain small for much longer. As much as these thoughts scare me, I now promise myself that I will do all that is in my power to not take these years for granted. I hope you do too! Now go hug your Mom if you are lucky enough to still have her around.