Tuesday, July 12, 2011

Falling Action

Summer, very quietly, will come to a close soon.  The heat may not go away for some time, but the work will slowly maneuver its way back into my life, filling my hands with papers, my time with the newness of school, and my mind with all the preoccupation that comes with my...well, my occupation.

Very soon, I will go back to being a working mother.

And it is this time, this upcoming dusk that is approaching, when I start to ache, when I start to see the full scope of what I miss when I don't have this precious gift of time. 

People told me when I was pregnant that I would not get any sleep, they told me that I would have a hard time, and my own mother told me that my child would probably be as crazy as I am (she's right), but no one ever really and fully explained the ache.

It's the ache of missing your child - even if she's just gone for a few hours.  It's the ache of seeing her bloom and grow.  There's such conflict and bittersweet feelings attached to watching her grow - I feel so proud to see her progress, but so sad to know she's moving, inch by inch, away from being little.  It's the ache of hearing her say, "byyyye," and "nigh-nigh!"  at the end of each summer night, knowing that I'm one day closer to summer's close. 

And oddly, I'm taking on the philosophy a biscuit at this stage of life.  I'm determined to sop up all the goodness that I can while I still have it with me.  I want to enjoy this summer with my baby girl while I still have the time.  Because soon, I'll be back at work, and our long, lazy summer days will be gone before both of us know it.

I've got a special girl.  I might tell you she's destructive (true) and crazy (yup), but she's beautiful, outgoing, silly, funny, sweet and absolutely wonderful.  I'm so blessed to have her.

"And somewhere past the quiet/
I think I heard you growing up/
And I, well I don’t think I’ll ever be the same" - Bebo Norman


Miss Sarah Speaks said...

Dana, you write like . . . breathing. It's steady, and necessary, and just a beautiful part of being alive. I love reading your blog. I always get a real sense of who you are from your words. I'm not a mother, but for a second, you helped me to know that feeling. That, my friend, is great writing!

Dana said...

Wow, Sarah...thank you. That means so much coming from someone who actually grades essays for a living. :)