Time

Today we went over to Ruby's house. Ruby is Andrew's grandfather's sister. She is 90 years old, sweet as can be, and reminds me of an angel with her pearly white hair and lashes. We have been meaning to visit her, but we did not get over to her house until today. She was so happy to see us. She laughed and talked with baby Sprout. He just tickled her. And then she looked at us, smiled kindly and softly explained that she wants to see her great-grandson Luke every week so he'll remember her when she's gone. Her words reminded me of my own grandmother's similar sentiments. When we took Sprout up to New Jersey for the first time, Grandma Mollie told me how thankful and grateful she was to meet her little grandson, as she did not know if she'd live to see him. Sometimes I wish that time would stand still. I would visit these ladies over and over and over again.
When I was a child, the time seemed to pass so slowly. It seemed as if I had to wait forever for Christmas to come each year. I remember wanting to be sixteen so badly ... because sixteen was when you were a real teenage, as beautiful as ever, and to top it all off, you could drive. Sixteen seemed like it would never come (almost sixteen years ago). I guess time started to pass at a quicker pace once I graduated from college. Each year passed a little faster than the year before ... but not extremely so. And then I became a mom. Now time flies.
I don't have enough time to do all of the things that I want to do. I want to see my family more. I want to be a better friend. I want to write so many letters that remain unwritten. I want to create individualized lesson plans for every single student in my class and send them flying towards academic success. I want to be a better wife and have the time to make my husband a beautiful dinner every night. I want to hold my baby just a little bit longer. I want time to reflect, time to dream, time to read, ... time to be what I really want to be.
Today, as I was watching Sprout sleep in my arms, I noticed subtle changes in his little face. He is changing. No longer is he just a baby -- he is a hybrid of a baby and a tee tiny man. He's growing up so fast. He's going to be a year old in April! And now, when he sleeps in my lap, half of his body spills over the edges. But I still love holding him just as much as ever. And this afternoon I heard myself say aloud, "Thank You God for right now." Suddenly, every single second of every single day is precious.