Today I had one of those the-heartbreak-of-motherhood moments. I was getting my lesson ready for church tonight, and I was using a clip from one of Adelade’s favorite movies, one of those that you watch ten thousand times until you love it just as much as your child does. The movie started and that familiar music began as the opening credits rolled. And, I was suddenly overwhelmed by the near physical pain in my chest, the heaviness that takes my breath away every time I realize that certain times with my children are gone forever. The first few notes carried me back to four year old Adelade, wide-eyed and curly-haired, with her weird love of all things Egypt and her sweet curiosities and tender ways.
I burst into tears in the middle of my messy living room, still so much beauty in child-raising ahead of me, yet I can never shake the heart-bursting reality that things are past that will never be back. And, I miss times that are gone even while I love the time I’m in. There is real, near despair in the growing and changing of my children. Even while I love the new phases. There is always a longing for what I can never have again.
And, most days I mother and I don’t think about it. Most days I don’t dwell on how much changes, so relentlessly. But, then I have a day like today.
And one song.
And a love that spills over onto aging cheeks and blurs my eyes and reminds me that time may be heartless, but I am not.
I am a mama. And I am heart-full.