school busDear Reader:  This is a rewrite of a previous post. Forgive my liberties in reprinting those few posts which resonate with me and provide a framework for all that follows. This pays homage to the start of school, the passing of time, and the recognition that having children changes it all.

Today, I waved to my daughter riding away on the bus. The silly kind of wave – two arms flailing, as if flagging down a passing ship.  I was also jumping up and down. We both continued waving until the bus was out of sight.

Walking back to my house, I had a lump in my throat. I am sad. Sad for the absence of these experiences with my own mother; sad for the time which is passing so quickly; sad, too, that I see that my parenting must be working well – my own daughter still longs for me and keeps me in her sight.  I did not have that with my own mother.

I will continue to try my hardest to fulfill that need, until her hands stop reaching for mine, the arm waves stop and I see her waving to her friends, not me. That time is coming. In fact, it’s just around the corner.

Writer Kelly Salasin once blogged, “There are so many deaths in mothering, beginning at the beginning, and arriving every day after. But equally matched with these deaths are the blessings of a new life – new growth – new possibility.” The truth of these words haunt me. I spent so many years trying to keep things the same. Having kids changed that. I spent so much time trying to live and have the same life. Having kids changed that.  I spent all my time trying to keep people out, and keeping my life (force) in. Having kids changed that, too.

When my children arrived, I listened to little that people said.  Everyone had advice, even if mostly unsolicited. They didn’t understand the traumas we all adjusted to; they didn’t understand the struggles we’d all had just to get here. But, the one thing I heard and followed was to ‘cherish these times wisely.’ (Translated: be in the now).  I say this daily. I pray with these words. Time passes without warning.

So, the next time the bus drives away from our house, I will wave with gusto, count all my blessings, and cry if I need to. I’m in the now of my life.