A few years ago I determined that I would age
gracefully. I decided that I would make
it my goal to move through and among the stages of life with as peaceful and
positive and forgiving of an attitude as I could muster.
I decided that I wouldn’t lament the wrinkles multiplying, or the age
spots that are spreading, or the ways that my body used to move that takes just
a bit more effort these days. I decided
that I would not long for days of the past but remember them, fondly, and look
forward to the days ahead.
Today that
determination was put to the test.
My baby…my still-1-year-old-for-another-23-days-but-who’s-counting
baby said “bye bye!” to the crib that has furnished our home for almost 4
years. We took out the screws that held
together the heirloom that somehow comforted—and contained—10 years’ worth of
babies in our family. Six children slept
there, and cried there, and babbled there, and searched for pacis and blankies
and loveys inside the crib that was built by a father, by an uncle.
 |
| The babies siblings + cousins = lifelong friends |
Today we set up a “big boy bed” for my baby who is still my
baby even if he does not sleep in a crib.
This
determination to age gracefully and move peacefully to this next stage of life…it’s
tough. But I will do it. I will.
I will. I will.
And I will also imprint the memories of this phase that is
fading deep in my mind.
I will remember how it felt to lift his body up over the
railings and lay him gently down, bottom first, then his head, tugging up the
blanket, and making sure to tuck in his arms just so. And I will remember how large that crib seemed as it held his
teeny-tiny newborn body, swaddled into an impossibly tight burrito. And how we found his “big” brother, who was
younger than he is now, curled up, asleep, around that tiny baby burrito when
he started to sleep in that crib.
I will remember how he called for Ma Ma! Momee! Momma! each time he woke up, even after
he knew he could climb out on his own. I will remember the excitement that shook his thick little
body when he found out he could sleep in a big boy bed. I will remember the laughter as my two babies, two brothers,
made their own memories, giggling their way to sleep.
I will remember that I cried because no matter how
gracefully we embrace the changes in life, it is still a little sad to say
goodbye to a phase that brought so much joy. And I will remember that these tears are good for the soul. Remembering our story is worthwhile. It matters.
Never stop telling your stories. I will remember that these tears are layered with
anticipation about what lays ahead.
Because, though the road is uncertain, there is joy in the journey.
