Thursday, September 25, 2008

Relative Age

This is not from last night. It is from a couple of months ago. But it is a cute one of a time I found Annie asleep one night on my bed.

Last night I came home late from a night with the girls at a friend's house. I went up to my bathroom and took my contacts out and brushed my teeth. In my bedroom I said my prayers, and then stood up to crawl in my bed. It was completely dark in the room except for the moonlight coming from one open window. 

In the moonlight, I could see my space in the bed. There lay a little girl wrapped up in the magic blanket, curled into a ball, and fast asleep. My poor eyesight kept me from being able to immediately discern who this was in my bed. I knew it had to be either Sabrina or Ann Marie. But, the first thought that entered my head when I saw her there was, "Oh, there I am."

After I picked Ann Marie up and put her in her own bed, I returned to my room and curled up in the magic blanket. I laid in my bed in wonder at how natural and easy that initial thought had been. 

Sometimes I feel 5 years old these days. I feel vulnerable and scared and in need of protection and love. I curl up in the magic blanket and lay by the strength of my husband to fall asleep. I ask my girls to give me extra hugs and love. They are like little mothers to me at times. Always I feel like a little child before the Lord. I am powerless yet trusting and ultimately loved.

Earlier that evening I got out of the shower and stood looking at myself with a towel wrapped around me. Jon was in the room and I said, "Do you ever feel like you are 80, like you have lived 50 years in the last three months?" 

"Yes," he replied, "and then some."

Sometimes I feel like an old woman these days. I feel tired and worn and I long for heaven. I see other people my age and feel so apart from the life I lived 4 months ago. I hear mothers longing for breaks from their children and I remember feeling that way four months ago. But now, well, I appreciate every minute with my children. They bring me joy through the sorrow. Like an old woman in a rest home, I continually want them to come sit and snuggle and talk with me. When they are asleep and at school I miss them.

Yet somehow my driver's license says I am still in my thirties. I wonder if or when I will ever feel my true age again.