Dejavu

I didn't know whether I should smile or cry this afternoon so I did both while I lay with this sweet snuggly baby as a memory hit 

me as a new mom, laying in the hospital bed with the twins on my chest, crying because they wouldn't nurse. I remember telling Bill my fear- "I can't even feed them, they will never let me take my babies home..."

flashbacks, snapshots frozen in time began to roll, one after another

to my childhood

young, 4 or 5, sitting on the landing at the top of my grandmother's steps, content to have the job of using her hand held nut grinder to prepare walnuts for her special Christmas cookies 

a few years later the horror of watching my uncle Joe cut the head off of my pet chicken and seeing it run around the yard

the wild cherry tree in her yard, my aunt using some of the gum oozing from it's bark to put on my toothache 

sitting outside chewing on the end of a stalk of rhubarb, a bowl of sugar in my lap to dip the end in

climbing the crab apple tree-cautioning my brothers and cousins to not eat the fruit so they wouldn't get a belly ache

pulling the trumpet vine flowers off of the vine and licking the nectar

following the creek bed with my younger brothers and cousins, pretending we were on grand adventures. Losing my new pair of glasses after having them for only a few hours on one of those adventures. Hunting and not finding them, having to confess through tears, my carelessness to my mom. Her not angry, somehow coming up with enough money to replace them.

laughing at Gallagher, my grandmother's skinny, long legged dog run sideways, the only way he ever ran

my Papa John trading me a quarter for any buffalo nickel I had

fast forward 

teenage angst

the thrill of becoming a wife

learning how to make jam, use both water bath and pressure canners, freezing corn, making bread and biscuits and cinnamon rolls

the joy of being a mom

rediscovering the wonders of a creek bed with my children

catching tadpoles so the kids could watch them grow to be frogs

Uncovering the treasures of wooded hillsides-foxfire, several different mosses, ferns and mushrooms; learning to identify trees by their leaves: a sassafras tree has three different shaped leaves, red oak leaves are pointed like the redman's arrow, white oak leaves are rounded like the white man's bullets

watching my children grow to be young adults, teaching them to cook and care for a home

watching them marry and become parents

holding my grandbabies

Driving two and a half hours to meet Beth when they moved away so I could have Hannah and Chloe for a few days when they were toddlers.

Grandma and Grandpa camp. A time the cousins came to our house for a week until the ages got too diverse and it didn't work anymore.

Seeing life fresh and new again through the eyes of my grandchildren and the precious gifts they choose to give me-dandelion bouquets, Indian beads from the lake shore, special rocks, pictures they draw, bird eggs they find.

Offering my grandchildren a nickel for each pinecone they pick up from my backyard, not realizing how many the tree had dropped!

Hannah asking if she could come spend the weekend with me. She will be 18 in July. Her driving from Cincinnati to Grayson Easter weekend was surreal.

Sarah and Elizabeth wanting to initiate Cousins camp-same purpose as grandma camp, with younger, fresher blood and workers, a time for all of the cousins to get together so they grow up knowing one another.

I don't know if you noticed the clock over my shoulder the first time you saw this picture. But it is a stark reminder of how quickly time passes. 

It feels like that should be one of my babies resting on my shoulder, not a grandchild. As I sat here spending much of the day cuddling this sweet baby who wasn't feeling up to par, I thought about life's cycles.

I will be 60 next year

flash forward

Great grandmother hood is not as far off as it feels like it should be. When it gets here, I will be watching my children do what I am doing now, and my grandchildren doing what my children are doing. It seems crazy!

There are chores that need to be done. But them being undone didn't bother me because I was back where I was almost 40 years ago when I sat cuddling my first babies. Time has taught me the truth of a lesson I learned way back then following the advice of a dear friend who had older children. No one will know or care that I have a pile of papers to take care of or that I should have swept and cleaned my floors and didn't. But today someone will know that I love them and care about them because I sat and held their baby.

I am not saying let the paperwork and chores go undone indefinitely. Do the paperwork. Accomplish the chores. But, don't do them at the expense of not taking the time to live and to love.

As I sat and watched snowflakes dance their way to the ground today, in the middle of April, I thought about how life has seasons that come and go. Sometimes the lines between seasons are blurred. I want to enoy each one of them for what they are and what they hold, not limiting them to what they are "supposed" to be.

If you need to use this post as a reason to stop and snuggle your baby, take a walk with your toddler, go on a date with one of your children or spouse, serve a friend, use it.
The time between needing a bottle and needing a computer is not nearly as long as it you imagine it will be.