December 20th, 2007“I hope she doesn’t wait too late…”
A home schooling mom’s perspective on the brevity of childhood
Imagine for a minute that you have traveled several years into the future. You are surprised to find yourself older (and perhaps grayer) with wrinkles that weren’t there yesterday when you bathed. How odd! But even odder is the shocking realization that your little babies have grown up and become adults! Just yesterday the kids were scrambling under your feet, preventing you from getting your work done, and giggling loudly over the silliest things. Today, they are gone. College, marriage, or employment have whisked them away before you knew that time was up. No more dirty fingerprints on the refrigerator. No more laughter ringing through the house. No more maddening interruptions when you’re trying to think. Where did the years go?
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This morning when I was changing clothes in the locker room of the fitness center, I overheard a conversation between an older woman and her younger friend. Christmas is quickly approaching, and the friend was asking whether the older woman’s son was coming home for the holiday. The older woman explained that he was so absorbed in his work and his fiancee that she didn’t expect to see much of him over the holiday. As she said goodbye to her younger friend, she shared a final word of advice: “Enjoy your children while they are at home. Once they grow up, it all changes.”
A familiar chord pierced my heart. Seventeen years ago, my husband and I lost our first son to a fatal genetic disease called Trisomy 13. During that period of intense joy and immense grief, I came to realize how very precious life was. In my own self-centered worldview, no child was supposed to die before the parents! It was unthinkable, and I didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of his life and death until many years later. Although I see more clearly now, there are still gaps in my understanding.
One lesson that I did embrace immediately was the absolute precious value of each day. Somehow over the last 12 years of my life, I had grown complacent and had taken those people whom I loved for granted. In the hushed months of my sorrow, I began to remember innumerable times that I had carelessly brushed aside the people I loved for less important tasks. I assumed that their needs could wait because we had tomorrow. How wrong I had been! I vowed after losing my son to embrace every day as if it was my last day with my husband, my family, my friends, and my coworkers. This enormity of this thought compelled my husband and I to make the decision that should the Lord give me healthy children in the future, I would stay home with them regardless of the cost in terms of my career or finances.
As the years pass and pain fades from memory, lessons learned in the midst of a crisis often fade as well. I’m now the contented mother of two healthy, rambuntious teenagers, and my life is brimming with energy and responsibilities as I exercise the privilege of home schooling them. My plate is full (some might call it overflowing) with organizing, supervising, and directing their academic and social calendars. Additionally, I feel compelled to write regular posts for my website to encourage other Christian moms in their home schooling journey. Lately, a little nagging thought has been creeping into my consciousness as I juggle the myriad demands of my days: have you forgotten the lesson? Have you put your work before your family? Have you spoken to them today, listened to them today, hugged them today, and told them that you loved them today as if it was your last day?
Because this little whisper has called me to task recently, I wasn’t surprised this morning when I overheard the conversaton between the older mom and the younger mom: “Enjoy your sons while they are at home. Once they grow up, it all changes.” Sometimes the Lord gently whispers to me, and I knew that He had arranged the conversation for my benefit. I began to weep silently as my mind raced forward into the future when my babies were adults and gone. No more dirty fingerprints. No more laughter. No more interruptions. Why did I foolishly find myself distracted by unimportant things?
But then as if I needed another reminder of how precious and brief this season of my life is, I overheard a second conversation between two young women. One was a personal trainer at the gym, and she was lamenting the fact that her daughter was very ill, and her mother-in-law had taken her to the pediatrician yesterday since she couldn’t get off work. I could hear the anguish in her voice as she told her friend “it killed me to get the phone call from my mother-in-law reporting the doctor’s findings when I wanted to be there myself.” Oh, no, I thought, her mother’s heart longs to be with her baby. What is she waiting for? Who knows her reasons? I hope she makes the most of each day and hugs that baby girl and tells her over and over that she loves her. I hope she pulls her up into her lap and reads to her as they snuggle at night. I hope she decides to sacrifice her job for her daughter because the work will always be there when her daughter is not. I hope she pays attention to what is really important in life. I hope she doesn’t wait too late.
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Please share your own thoughts in the comments section below.
This article is scheduled for publication in FaithLifts, a group blog at 5minutesformom.com.