Monday, March 29, 2010


My mother cried when Sunflower poked her hand from within.
We brought home his crib, I helped Jack assemble it.
At the park a breeze followed us like a trace of heaven.

Jack lay his head on my stomach at night to listen to his heartbeat while I ran my fingers through his hair which today I saw had more strands of gray than it once did.

Each of these moments were perfect. Each moment felt achingly beautiful as I realized how brief each moment is. I may or may not have other similar moments, but I will never have this moment right now ever again.

I don't often think about dying. I focus on living. There's an illusion that I have forever. But today the illusion shifted. One day the people I love will be gone. One day I will be gone. My mind can grow toxic with powerful forces: worry, anxiety, loneliness. Bruised spots I touch despite the ache. Why do I do it? I don't have forever. I don't have time to waste. Instead of saddening me this thought feels freeing.

FIL is a ball of doom and gloom. The dishes are never washed right. The food, too spicy. The car might skid off the road. The roof might cave in tonight. His dark cloud constantly threatens to coat everyone around him. Jack always tells me he feels bad for his dad. It must be awful to feel miserable while you hug your child, take a hot shower, eat a delicious cake. It's a special hell to never fully live in the now, to be surrounded by so much but not have the ability to see it.

My father spent six weeks overseas in a third world country. His mother's home had no heat, internet, intermittent electricity, dirt roads. At first he felt discomfited by the sudden brakes to the urgent e-mails, lists of things to do, bills with underlined deadlines. He said in some ways now he misses the easy pace where while one noticed time passing, one didnt live dictated by it, unable to enjoy a moment while you worried or planned the next. Living in the moment, was the rule, not the exception.

Sometimes I can get caught up in the fast paced life I feel I should live. The frequent wondering about tomorrow or next week often blind me to the now and the moments happening right under my nose. Today I got a glimpse of what it must be like to live fully in the now, push away the thoughts of tomorrow and simply enjoy the then and there. I'm amazed. There must be people who live all their lives like this. Tasting this flavor, I want more. The key will be learning not to forget.


  1. This post is inspiring. It's so true. We need to seize the moments that remind us or teach us how to live. To really live.

    I can't tell you how my heart did little backflips at reading about your sunflower interacting with the outside world and the effect he's had on people in his life already. It seems like just yesterday when we were both reaching blindly for a chance at bliss. Any sign or signal that we might be happy someday, willing to go through hell to get there. I'm so glad you've gotten there. Hold on to it.

  2. good to hear your thoughts...

    btw, can j hear sunflower's hb when he puts his head on your tummy? my placenta is anterior, so my huz--try as he might--cannot hear her in there. i'm just glad we can feel her! :)

  3. My babies have been so amazing - inspiring new feelings - like sheer terror at losing my husband, who just turned 52 - he is my stability, my center. I have tried to slow everything down - and live in the moment, the exact moment that I am in and enjoy that.

    ((HUGS)) to you - and I cannot believe you are 34 weeks!

  4. Yes. Yes. Yes. The greatest gift you can give yourself is to soak in every last minute of your pregnancy and your time with sunflower once he arrives. I vowed to do it once I had Lemy and while I'm not always successful I have memories I'm sure I would have overlooked otherwise.

  5. This post definitely struck home for me for a multitude of reasons. I think there are posts that have been floating about in my head for some time that speak somewhat to what you're saying.

    When I was 22, I started working as the business office manager for a skilled nursing facility (a.k.a. nursing home). I worked there for nearly 3 years and it was the experience of a lifetime. Trust me. If you want to see life and death, the really honest two sides of the coin, go work 10 hours a day in a place like that. You'll never see life the same again. I saw more death in a month than most people see in a lifetime.

    On the other hand, 2 years ago this month a close friend of mine died in a bad accident at the age of 37. He had a daughter who was a freshman in high school. And he was one of the most vivacious, living in the moment kind of people I've ever known. In fact, he took first place in that category.

    The one thing we can't ever get back or replace is time. Every moment is ripe with opportunity and meaning. Life certainly shouldn't be lived in a rush. Savor it, I say!

    Excellent, insightful post. Thank you!!

  6. Love this post. I think it's something I should work on too.

  7. A beautiful post, K. This is exactly why I am a SAHM. These moments with my son(s) can never be repeated -- the best I can do is live them fully. That has to be enough, and it can be.