So this is the school year, right? Here we are, not ready and not set, saying all the different things that add up to the same thing–Where does the time go?
It was slipping fast this morning, through oatmeal, cereal, toast, showers, lunch boxes and put your shoes on. It will slip past the same way tomorrow and the day after that. And the evenings will be the great gobblers of time too, with their demands for homework and more eating and more dishes, getting to bed to do it again. In between, we will run places for work and sports and appointments and clubs and church and friends and family and life.
That’s where the time goes, I suppose.
In the middle of the sameness of it all, we are each, every grown up one of us, given the chance to see these small ones that we call our very own. There they are, being the only ones ever. Her shoes light up when they slap at the ground, twinkling like her. He didn’t wear socks with his stinky shoes cause he’s all boy, oh well. The mops of hair on their brilliant heads. The smell coming from only our kitchen, mixing itself up with all the favorite things that make us go. The way she acted as if preschool is college and she may never come back, packing all the things in her new striped backpack. How they kiss the guinea pig goodbye and feel sorry for her, that she’ll be alone. Snap the photos to remember, please just smile nice once. Hugs and kisses. Being nervous is okay. Buckle them in, swat a yellow jacket wasp out of the van, save the day. Wave and watch and feel it.
We are fed grace in minutia and the mundane, in the daily grind. These are the best miracles.
This is Just Write, a free-writing exercise in which you sit down with no writing agenda, no pushing for a theme. Watch the details of your stories ignite their own meaning from within:
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Aww. Yes. Brought a tear to my eye. Too fast.
Kat@Seeking Sanity recently posted..WW- The Return
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