Christmas is over. And though I find it easy to strip my house of the red and green by the afternoon of January 1, the pretty white twinkly lights tug at my heart and seem "appropriate" for long winter nights even through the romantic Valentines days of mid February. See, I am drawn to the excitement of the next, new season (which pushes me to get old season things packed away to make room for new), but my nostalgic self clings to the certain pretty parts of seasons passing that make it hard to take down, wrap up and close the box lid .
My only daughter got married last weekend. She and her new husband are very in love and though, like all of us, they likely have struggles ahead , I have a confidence in their faith and the way they stare into each others' souls that this is a sweet, uncommon match.
I'm finding scattered amidst Christmas things a lot of old photographs she was sorting through to prepare a slide show for the wdding. They stop me from this cleaning up and I find in them the crux of my dilemma...how can the new season of Empty Nest, We-Can-Do-Anything-We-Want-Now compare to the rich days of crooked lost-tooth smiles? Those days are gone. Done. Box closed. No matter if I wanted to linger in their twinkly lights for just a bit longer. (sigh) I loved being a mom. I knew how to do that.
As I stare at the stacked boxes in our bedroom, I remind myself there are many new wonderful unknowns ahead and I always feel better when the old is sorted and put out of sight. Dancing with my husband at her wedding I felt the stir of a new era and it was a great feeling of freedom. Maybe Hawaii together in 2011. Getting to know a grandchild. Finally finishing my Master's degree.
I guess when I get the boxes all to the attic the Spring will come eventually and my momentum toward this newness will take wings.
For now, I kept out one picture of a long haired three-year old sitting in the middle of a teddy bear collection...and I left the twinkly lights on the garage.
4 comments:
Love the picture of Rachel. She looks beautiful. Just arrived back in Italy tonight. It is freezing. Can't wait till summer!
Wow, a new son-in-law! Rachel looks beautiful. Please tell Rachel and her hubby best wishes and God's blessings. As for being an empty-nester, it's wonderful. It's like being back when you first got married except you're wiser and know when to keep your mouth shut! Ha-ha. As for worrying about not being a mom anymore, well, that never stops. I think my kids rely on me more now than they did when they were teenagers. And once grandkids come, well, it's amazing how much us old folks know. I remember my first frantic call in the middle of the night, "Mom, Joshy has a fever and I'm not sure what to do. Should I call the doctor? Is he sick?" You'll be a mom until God calls you home. And grandkids are the icing on the cake. We're expecting #5 in July and are just loving every moment. Of course, it's nice when they go home, too. Weekends at Nana's and Pop's are fun. You actually stop everything and dote totally on them. It brings back times spent with my kids when they were young. So those toothless little girl memories will be relived again.
Hawaii sounds great. Perhaps a land and sea trip in Hawaii would be nice. My brother and his wife just took one for their 25th anniversary in October and loved it. They are planning a return for their 30th.
Well, enjoy the last remnants of the holiday season - the last cookie from a cookie exchange, the decoration that didn't seem to make it back into the box, or the memories of carols with friends and family in a candlelit church on Christmas Eve. These are the things that make life wonderful.
Until next time, enjoy life and praise God for the blessings and people He has placed on our path. They keep us strong in Him.
Nancy
Congratulations! I had no idea Rachel was getting married! What a wonderful and exciting time for all of you (and nervous and new and scary!)
Mama,
Just reading over your old blog posts as I sit and gaze at the our first Christmas tree apart.
Thank you. You are and always have been my most cherished, loved, fun, incredibly sentimental friend. I miss those lazy Saturday mornings with us sprawled on my bed in the purple room or the late night chats about school, work, boys. You never gave up on me, never made me feel like I wasn't good enough. I miss you so much, especially on nights like this.
Post a Comment