On Monday, our little Gwenna marked 7 weeks old. When she was born the fireflies were just starting to peak. Naomi loved watching her brothers trying to catch them and even tried to catch a few herself. Seven weeks ago we were still getting mostly salad greens in our farm share, then all of a sudden we started getting green beans, and then two weeks ago when we picked up our share Charles squealed in delight as tomatoes where on the table. I immediately thought, “Tomatoes already?!” I was bringing home my new baby and trying to adjust to sleepless nights and recovery; time seemed to be going past before I had a chance to catch up with it.
It seems that this summer I have been marking the passage of time by the natural cycles that I have grown accustomed to. I have always enjoyed hearing the first sound of crickets on warm summer evenings. And I still do, but this year has brought a melancholy feeling. School will start soon and I am not sure if I am ready to learn with two 5th graders (fifth!) and a first grader and their two (two!) sisters. Will we get into a good routine? Am I ready to start over again? I long to savor the sound of the crickets and the taste of the tomatoes.
But even as I enter August trying to hang on to the memories we are creating right now, I am excited too, for there are new things awaiting us. At my cousin’s wedding, Charles gets to be a ringbearer. So cool. My brother’s wedding is a month later, and we will welcome a new family member. And of course there will be pumpkins in the garden and blachenta to make, as our family does, in the fall. The girls will be sprouting teeth. The boys will continue to move forward in Cub Scouts. And my heart will continue to celebrate with them even though it aches a bit because fireflies are turning to crickets just a little too soon.
Listen.
You are wise to try to hold on to those memories, or at least make them stick a little more. It all goes so fast! I can’t believe you’ve got five children. I missed that somehow. Eli is a senior this year, and though I struggle valiantly to hide it, I’m in permanent mourning. I don’t want any of them to go. But go they must, and my job is to make them feel secure and good about going, even though it’s the last thing in the world I want. This is something about motherhood you don’t understand when you are snuggling infants. Not true, actually, the first loss is birthing out the baby inside you to have the one you hold in your arms. Sigh. Have a great tomato-tasting day!
Beautifully written. I can rleate to what you wrote, especially during this season of life with so many demands and avenues I want to explore. I need to remind myself that who I am in Christ, His truth should be my focus, not the goals I set to accomplish.