i’ve had the time of my life
…i just don’t know it yet.
how come so many people hate what time does to us? i love it. i need time and its perspective.
there are warnings everywhere.
sings billy joel…
these are the times to remember, ’cause they will not last forever
charles dickens agrees..
they were the best of times, they were the worst of times
and many of my other 80’s icons from dennis de young to simon and garfunkle (i discovered them in the 80’s, so they count) are cautiously and continually reminding me that:
i am going to look back on these days as the best times of my life.
not easiest. definitely not.
but best.
we are all together. the children have all been held by their grandparents. please God, this summer we will get a four generational picture of women: my gran, my mum, myself, sela and carys. that is amazing stuff.
my children (and this is not always a good thing) are no farther away than the confines of the apartment, or as far as the school bus takes them. i am surrounded by love. and its obligations.
unless he’s travelling, magnificent charles and i are sleeping beside each other, not angry and silent separated by a wall, or by death, every night. i don’t scratch his hair, back and bum like i used to, but i still do it, especially when he’s asleep to watch him make that reactive happy smile.
i’m grateful, if slightly disbelieving that these will be looked back as the best of times. i know they will. i know that the tired days will be replaced with the memories of what happened during those days.
these were the days that made me. refined me. made me listen and see God in ways and places i never had before. this was the year that made me promise to do more with my life, after witnessing how precious life is and how hard my children fought for theirs. people i quickly learned to care for also lost dreams, children and their wishes for one last hug, one more day makes me realise i am so lucky to have these days, even if i stumble through them.
i saw friends realise and hold their dreams. wives, children, husbands, friends reunited.
and i watched miracles, three miracles, thrive.
but of course, surviving a miracle is tough.
tiring.
emotional.
requiring (but not always receiving) unselfishness (particularly given without a sigh, eye roll or complaint).
and even though i KNOW it right now, and BELIEVE it as love and obligations and children are growing and decimating me and rebuilding my soul and my physical appearance, the reminders that this was as good as it gets, and it was pretty good, and yes, chaotic, tiring, and all those other words, is kind.
they were the worst of times, and they’re also the best of times.
time will reinforce that.
and perspective.
and apparently, i will wish i could relive these days.
the times are that good???
they will be.
in time.
