No one prepares you for “it’s over…”

I can recall several childhood memories where I can vividly feel, smell, and see everything around me. Reflecting on those moments, I genuinely believe I understand why they are so vivid.

I don't believe it's because they were the most memorable or had the greatest impact on my life.

And I don't think they are always reflective of my worse days.

I think they were the moments I told myself,

“I’m going to remember this one day.”

I’m sure you can recall those brief snippets of time, too.

Where that instant you whispered under your breath and told yourself,

‘‘I wont forget this moment.”

Or

“One day, you will miss this.”

I believe we instruct our brains to retain that information.

And it does.

That's why those memories are so clear.

Why, regardless of the time that has passed, all your senses awaken, causing you to relive it repeatedly.

I always go back to a memory where I am swinging on my childhood swing set.

I am by myself…

And I am swinging back and forth….back and forth.

It is autumn.

I see leaves on the ground, in shades of brown and orange, and they are crisp.

It's later in the fall, yet it's not chilly.

And I am swinging.

As I swing, I am singing,

“Mister Bluebird’s on my shoulder. 
It's the truth, it's ‘actch’ll.’ 
Everything is ‘satisfactch'll.’ 
Zip-a-dee-doo-dah, zip-a-dee-ay. 
Wonderful feeling, wonderful day!”

And then it’s over.

No one prepares you for that.

I also recall a time when my children were young.

I remember thinking, they are just 4 and 7.

I watch them as they play, simply enjoying their freedom.

And I was thinking, and still do at times….those are my children, my girls.

I am their mom.

I'm a mother!

In that memory, I only recall thinking…

Thank goodness they are still 4 and 7.

But, remember when they were 2 ad 5…

Gosh, one day they will be 10 and 13.

Thank goodness they are just 4 and 7….

I can see them now.

I can smell the room.

I can see the colors of their clothing and hear their voices.

“Hold on to this moment,” I said.

And then it’s over.

They are 16 and 12 now.

No one prepares you for that.

At least they are 16 and 12.

Hold on the moments, Mom….

There’s been plenty of other flashbacks in time.

Those that preceded these, and those that followed these.

But, they were real.

Those moments belonged to me.

They were my feelings.

I recently watched a video where a young boy talks about everything that occurs before the present moment.

He spoke about how everything that happened yesterday, is gone.

It no longer exists.

It's as if every second, every action, every thought, every moment, every minute, and every day, once it's over, it's gone.

It truly has no existence.

How strange is that?

It's not as if it's suspended in a cloud for us to grasp and experience again, or to redo in certain situations we might desire.

I find that fascinating and devastating at the same time.

It is more accurately described as melancholy.

Life is both beautiful and sad.

I read somewhere that melancholy is the pleasure of being sad.

So much truth in that.

We often fall into the mindset that after getting married and having children, the likelihood of a life-changing event is minimal.

We believe we have reached the typical milestones in life.

We clean our hands, give ourselves a pat on the back, and say, 'you did it.'

You get through school.

You have a career and get a job.

You marry.

You have children.

You achieved the milestones.

We view 'what is' as 'this is it.'

You become accustomed to it and begin to focus more on the present, taking each day as it comes.

Life becomes hectic, particularly if you are a mom.

It get’s busier when you have kids that are active in sports and extra curricular activities.

You don't always experience the present; instead, you struggle to endure it.

Until one day…

You are lying on the bathroom floor, trying to force yourself to get up to pack a suitcase.

And then it’s over.

I was not prepared for that.

I recall the day I picked up a truckload of items and a small amount of furniture, all being moved into my newly leased three-bedroom apartment.

My dad walked through, glanced around, quickly turned to me, and said,

“Welcome to independence!”

I was 38 years old.

Marriage.

The life we built.

The home we had.

The only thing I knew.

Over.

“This too shall pass…”

Life has continued to bring me more milestones.

More than I could ever imagine.

More moments in time where I learned to realize the inevitable…

…It’ll be over.

The purest understanding to all this, is only gifted to us when we can recognize and understand the magnitude of,

What once was, can be no more.

Moments are created in time, only to turn into memories just seconds after.

We hold many things in our hands that gradually slip away.

There are numerous occasions when we feel stable, only to find ourselves losing our footing.

We explore numerous places that don't compare to the significance of where we are today.

Throughout our lives, we encounter many people who either remain with us or are swept away by the wind.

There will many opportunities we miss while we look the other way.

Certain decisions we make will finish an incomplete puzzle that has been gathering dust for quite a while.

We encounter numerous lives that shape and form us, gradually chipping away to transform us into who we are destined to become.

I never thought at 40 years old I would be here.

But one day,

It’ll be over.

And that’s okay.

Because even then, I will still have that bluebird on my shoulder….

While I sing…..

“Zip a dee doo dah zip a dee a

My oh my, what a wonderful day.

Plenty of sunshine heading my way

Zip a dee doo dah zip a dee a.”