Here I sit on a quiet, rainy, Saturday morning....just me and three cats. I've got the washing machine going and the back door open so I can listen to the rain fall mainly because, I realized this morning, that silence makes me crazy.
And how crazy is that?
Sixteen years ago...heck...probably just six or seven years ago, I would have likely paid money for a little silence. But the noise is all I know now. Even though it's different noise these days. It's all in deep teenage boy voices and there is certainly more silence even when the kids are around. But there's activity. The house is alive.
These days when I am alone are still very few and far between. And certainly, I'd be lying if I said that I don't enjoy being able to do whatever I want without having to stop to attend to someone's needs. Nonetheless, I still don't do the silence well. And in these moments is when the reality of my life hits me hard. Jonathan is 16 1/2 today. That means in 18 months, he'll be 18. Eighteen short little months. I remember how quickly he turned 18 months old after he was born...okay...that first year seemed like it drug on forever, but looking back, it was all a blink of an eye. I know these next 18 months are going to go even faster. And I don't know how this happened. I don't know how they grew up so fast. Christopher is almost even with me in height and once he outgrows me, I'll officially be the shortest person in my house. After spending my entire life being a tall girl, it's weird to think I'm going to be the short one.
And life is funny like that. Things you may not have liked at one time become things you covet.
Those little boys who stood on the floor with their arms in the air constantly wanting to be picked up are now both almost bigger than me.
How I remember just wanting to go to the bathroom alone. I vividly remember nursing and peeing more times than I want to admit because I simply couldn't hold it anymore and I was avoiding a tantrum. Now, I could probably sit alone in the bathroom all day and the boys wouldn't even notice until they hungry. Which no longer involves my breasts by the way...which I'm sure you weren't even thinking even though SO many people told me they'd be nursing well into their teenage years when they were nursing at 3 years old. Yeah...show me that teenage boy. Mine don't even want to acknowledge I have breasts. Any discussion of their nursing days makes them bolt from the room. ;)
The long nights of little to no sleep have been replaced with kids who sleep soundly for hours and hours and hours. I never could have imagined that one day I would say I kind of miss those quiet nights, just me and a nursing baby in my arms. I often tell the story of a particularly long night with Jonathan when he was about 6 months old. I was tired and cranky and frustrated (and so was he). I looked out the venetian blinds on the front window and every other house was dark in the cul-de-sac and I felt like the only human being awake. I.Just.Wanted.Sleep. And then I swear I heard a voice. It's as clear today as it was then. Call it what you will...God, Buddha, Spirit, the Universe...whatever you believe in...but that voice whispered to me..."Breathe. 16 years from now, you'll still be peeking out those blinds at Midnight, but you'll looking for headlights, waiting for this boy to come home." And that message stopped me in my tracks. And I sat down. I snuggled Jonathan in tightly. And I breathed. In THAT moment, he was safe in my arms. And I relaxed and we both fell asleep. And now...today...it is 16 years later. Thankfully, I haven't had a night of waiting for him to come home...but he's slipping further and further out of my fingers every day. I can't protect him from everything anymore. And our relationship is quite largely about me letting him go.
Ahhhh...the quiet makes me reflect. And although I love reflection...it also makes me crazy. Time marches on. We have our ups and our downs, but life is fluid. It is ever changing and all we can do is ride the waves. 6 years ago, my mom had just been diagnosed with cancer and the following 7 months were a whirlwind of ups and downs and then she was gone. I had no idea how to walk in this world without my mom. And yet...look at me...I've done it. And in a big way. :)
So...today...I'll get in a nice long workout...and maybe do some cleaning of the house. I'll track Olly's long flight home and possibly force myself to relax...even though that feels like work to me.
For now, I'll finish my cup of coffee, listen to the rain fall and experience THIS moment and try not to think about how fast that march through life seems to go.
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