Eighteen school days left until summer vacation. Eighteen days before time has passed and life changes again. Sometimes I look at my littlest Grace lying on the floor, feet propped up on the hearth of the fireplace, thumbing through her word wall words, saying each one of them out loud, and I watch the freckles on her nose and it hurts. How can freckles hurt so much? It’s like my heart will explode from holding so much love in there. It’s worse than a stomach ache after eating too much chocolate cake. An actual physical pain that literally makes me want to double over and when I dwell on it, I feel a little insane because I can’t quite grasp the concept of motherly love. It makes no sense. And yet my senses overwhelm me on a daily basis. It’s like I am truly aware with each passing moment that each moment is passing before I can truly be aware of it. I have been thinking a lot lately about how there is such a fine line between joy and sorrow and they both feel pretty painful. This love makes me want to cry and laugh and dance and mourn all at the same time. I would never wish for time to stand still. I would die of boredom for sure. But when I look at the freckles on my baby girl’s nose, it’s like they’re developing right before my eyes. Like watching a flower bloom in fast motion on sped-up film. She wasn’t born with those freckles. And in a few years, makeup will cover them up. And they’re so cute! I want to touch them and pinch the cheeks that they rest upon and smother them with kisses. But they’re not my freckles. They’re her freckles. And though she came from me, she is not a part of me. She is becoming more her own person with each passing day and one day she’ll break away completely.
Soon, we’ll be completely done with first grade. All five people in our family will have completed first grade and we will never do first grade again until one of my daughters has a child of her own. Then it will be time for another time.
Life is surreal. And it makes me want to burst out of my heart.