Bittersweet

My kindergarten teacher messaged me on my first day back as a teacher and from her own experience she expressed that this moment will be bittersweet. I think I’m learning to like the taste of bittersweet. 

As I let go of Zoë’s toddlerness and embrace her school years I see that each season has it’s blessings and struggles. And as Grey leaves his baby days behind and grows right into this toddler stage I squeeze him tighter because I know what’s right around the corner.

I’m thankful for the wisdom my friend shared with me because she knows my heart and my battle. Embracing the bittersweet allows me to continually grow and accept the change. There are so many moments I wish I was able to not regret. That I would have chosen sooner, rather than later. I find myself wishing I had dealt with my grief sooner, that I invested in my health sooner, that I had invested more meaningfully in my relationships, that I trusted Jesus sooner. There is always later, but when does later really come if it’s always tomorrow? And honestly I sit back and wonder why did I put it off so long? Why did I avoid it for as long as I did? Maybe the hurt was so deep. Maybe I was covering up the hurt. Maybe I didn’t think anyone really understood me.

I was watching a young girl raise her hands to her dad asking to be picked up. I couldn’t help, but think of how natural it is to feel safe and secure in the arms of your parent. Many of us have stood in a pool arms stretched out assuring our child we WILL catch them. And with confidence they have jumped. I’m so quickly reminded that my role as a parent is significant, it’s important work. As parents we have the gift of giving our children confidence to face life, but we also have the power to take it away. More than that we get the choice. Sometimes we become parents not knowing what that meant or the kind of commitment it means. I sit here knowing that in one moment I didn’t feel like I had the choice to be a parent (even though I chose I felt forced), but then in another I made the choice because sometimes we have to feel the freedom to choose.

I think about all of these little moments along life’s path and how we can be so lost. I know I was after my mom died. I felt like no one was there in the deep end waiting for me to jump. I thought I was chasing my dreams and creating my own life, but looking back I took on hers. I dressed like her (sometimes I wore her clothes, it made me feel close to her), I taught in the same school district (I walked right into her work family), I became a wife and mother. I have shed some of that burden and have found freedom to be me. Instead of trying to be my mom I try to see things through her eyes. In the beginning of parenting you think you have it all figured out and then they enter school, reality sinks in about the long haul. Something about the shift and that they are under the care of another person for the majority of the day makes me feel that my roll at home is that much more significant because my time of influence on her is consolidated to a much smaller window. I don’t want to miss my minutes. I can see why my mom was so hard on me. I can also see why she hired Zoë’s teacher and for that I’m eternally grateful. I know she won’t always be this lucky, but I count my blessings. As for Grey being a momma’s boy is hard. And being a homebody is even harder. The struggle for him in this time of change is hard. He’s the bitter to the sweet. Baby boy I’m going to do everything I can to help you and encourage you because it’s all I know how to do. Now someone invent slow motion for life and slow time down already.