Today, while taking Ethan to school, I happened to hear a letter read that was written by a little boy, Josh. Josh lost his mother when he was 7 or 8 (this was about 10 years ago), and he wrote a letter to his mom on his first Mother’s Day without her. It was heart wrenching! I sat in the truck and cried.
Afterward, I started thinking. Do my kids get the best of me? Does my husband?
I wondered what their letters would say.
I am snippy when I shouldn’t be. I cry over spilled milk. I have said (more than once), “Give me a minute. I’m on the computer” or “Let me finish cleaning the kitchen” or “I’m almost done with my paper” or “I’m watching this show.” There are so many things racing through my mind. Times when I should have stopped what I was doing and gave them my full attention. Times when I should have been more caring and understanding instead of upset that their actions gave me more work. Times when I should have sat down and played the board game for the 50th time or read a book for the 100th time. Times when I should just hold them and rock them until they fall asleep instead of trying to “train them” to sleep on their own, all night long.
The old saying, no one ever says they wish they worked more rings true. I need to slow down. I need to focus on my family. I need to push aside things that don’t matter because . . . really, this is it. This is the only shot I get . . . and I know that I’m going to miss this . . . every last second . . .
