Day 3 : It's Not a Tragedy


The passage of time can make me downright melancholy. Nothing is today exactly as it was yesterday. Cheeks grow chubbier, crawls turn to steps, words become sentences. Time moves us forward, like it or not.

Admittedly, there have been times {and probably there will be more} that I've considered the passage of time and the change it brings quite tragic. I've shed more than a few crib-side tears when feet hang a little longer and the time needed to be snuggled is shorter. Don't let it happen too fast, I quietly pray. Why do they even have to grow at all?

Last week, as I sat in the car nursing my second-born, I watched my first-born and my husband play in a church yard. Running, laughing, testing his new found ability to jump. The two walked up a grassy hill, then down a flight of concrete stairs. It took several steps for me to realize that my son wasn't holding on to the railing, nor his daddy's hand. How casually he made his way down, like he'd done this for years. No celebratory Hooray! at the bottom. Just kept going like it was no big deal.

My first thought was, "Oh my heart is breaking - he is growing up. He is needing us less and less." {Ok, y'all he's not even two...I know I'm being melodramatic.} But there was a deeper peace, "I am so proud of him and for him. He is confidently accomplishing things on his own and I want our son to continue to be able to do things on his own." 

In my effort to not forget these wonderful little moments, I don't want to live in a perpetual state of sadness that the moments pass quickly. I want to cherish moments of yesterday without forfeiting the joy of today. 

As I am learning to number my days, becoming more intentional with how I spend {give away} each one, I'm becoming more ok with the idea that my days are numbered. That these moments are numbered. 

I continually remind myself, "This is your life. Right now. Live it." 

Live the dirty diapers and the dimpled elbows, the spit up and the spills. Live the stuttered sentences and sweet snuggles. These things will come to an end. It's not a tragedy, it's simply the passing of time. 


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Oh. Those hands and cheeks. Not forgetting this.

Chili and cornbread so good that he had to share it with his hair. Not forgetting this.

Snuggled to sleep on the couch.
Wearing Lyle's shirts inside-out.
Watching a movie with my best friend.
Not forgetting this.


This is the third post in the series 31 Days of Not Forgetting. If you are just joining today and would like to read the series from the beginning, click here.

How do you deal with the passing of time? How have you come to terms with the fact that it just doesn't stop!? Let me know you're reading :) 

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