Girls in the autumn colors of our farm. Their growing startles me and my growing startles me. What did I think? We would stand in time and they stay little and I stay young? It didn't happen. The wind blows through the tall trees and time blows through them and me. Time, it's always about the time. Why do I see these clocks going off in my head? Rushing to make sure I say and do the things that need to be done. Is it because of the little ones that I never got to parent? Was it the trip to Africa and the sad faces of little boys and girls who begged me to bring them home? Was it baby William laying in my arms saying goodbye to me before I even got to whisper in his ear that I loved him? Was it the girls? When they were placed in my arms and the gratitude I felt when they were given to me for the first time?
My clocks going off... reminding me to breathe before I get angry. A clock reminding me to enjoy before they leave. A clock that reminds me to stand, cuddle, and laugh. My days revolve around them like the clocks little minute hand. I never stop. I'm always talking, changing diapers, fixing boo-boos, watching movies and washing their clothes that seem to pile up more day after day. I talked to God yesterday and I was thanking Him for the noise of my home. I told Him that I didn't look forward to the emptiness of my walls, the rest my floors would have when they left. The quietness that is slowly moving it's way closer. He didn't answer me but I know He knows my heart. He probably laughed at me and told me to be content and not worry about tomorrow and it's quietness. I keep talking anyway because I know He listens. I ramble on and on about His children and ask Him to forgive me if I haven't parented the way He wants me to today. He listens, He always listens and I'm thankful that I can pour myself out to Him and He gets me, because He made me.
The fall winds blowing in the rain. I can't believe it's time for the seasons to change once again. It's happening faster and faster. The minute hand ticking and always moving. I stand in the wet grass and see my girls enjoying each other. I know it's just a matter of time before she is married and gone. Leaving this farm for her on true love, packing her suitcase for her journey to her own home. Leaving this farm and only coming home to visit.
Coming home to remember her own childhood here. The Lord preparing me for the quietness of her being gone. I cry out to Him but He ever so gently reminds me that I will let go of all of them one day. I will swing open the door of my home and let them go.
If I'm being honest I will miss so much about them now. Her being my best friend. Walking beside me, loving me, her secret letters, yoga mats, and trips to the mail-box... the way she loves her music when she cooks. The ways she gets hyper when she drinks Dr. Pepper. Her willingness to listen and her want to be heard.
I will miss the way sisters live together, sleep together, laugh together. I hear the clocks ticking and it's not a bad thing, it's a good thing. It's a constant reminder to keep focus. To enjoy every single moment and to lighten up and not take things so seriously. To not be easily offended, and to keep my head in the game.
The rain starts to come down and Channie-Mae is tired of picture taking so we head in to the house and I start my day again.
It's the same thing I do everyday and I listen to the ticking of the clock and I enjoy the here and now and decide not to worry about the quietness that the future will bring.