Have you ever thought that there is never enough time to be with the ones that you love the most? That there are days when you would like to just stop time; linger in the moment that you are in, with those you make you feel the most whole you could ever be?
Today, when I was with my sons, I wanted to stop time. I did not want them to age another second. I wanted to hold on to them, just as they were at that particular moment.
It's not that we were doing anything particularly special when the urge seized me. Just an ordinary day, running errands in the morning, doing normal stuff. But there was something about that moment; the three of them in such perfection, such sweetness, that I could have been lost in that moment forever.
Later on during the day, I cleaned out clothes that no longer fit the boys. As I discarded items that had been handed down the line, my heart ached. I remembered buying the jacket that Matthew wore to the hospital when we brought home Andrew from the hospital. And now, Joshua has outgrown it. I literally caught my breath. As tears formed I thought, "Has that much time really passed?"
It's is very easy to be caught in the day to day reality. In that reality, we really don't see the passage of time. It's when we are doing something as routine as clearing out outgrown clothing, especially those that have been passed down from sibling to sibling, that the reality grips us.
Tonight, we skipped Good Friday services, much like the year Joshua was born, since it is kind of difficult to be in the operating room having a cesarean section and hearing the Good News at the same time. But as I sat and read the Gospel of Matthew to my sons, I took a mental picture of my greatest loves. I tried to memorize, as much as I could, every expression, every detail that I could absorb to hold on to today. To this moment. To my boys.
And my heart was full. I cannot stop the hands of time. It would deprive me of other magnificent moments with these exceptional people. It would stop them from becoming the people that they are destined to be.
And truly, I cannot wait to see how their stories develop. What they will decide to do with their lives, who they will be most like, how their interests will grow and blossom.
And even though I cannot make time stop, in my heart, I try to slow it down some. To savor the moments that bubble into beautiful memories; relish in the moments when their love for John and I overshadow whatever worry we may have in tomorrow.
Because there is never enough time.
Wishing each of you a joyous Easter!