I had a really tough day yesterday.
I See It Coming
I kept “seeing” me dying, could see it clear as day. Can see it clear as day.
I thought about my kids whom I love so much. My grandkids who will not know their Nanny (as they call me) except through anecdotes about how crazy I was. (In a good way.) The oldest might remember me a little bit, but I have had next to zero time with the baby. That breaks my heart. I think about what I want to say to them, but I want to tell them everything. How can I tell them everything without a lifetime together?
I want my kids and grandkids to know how very much I love them and how they will be my last thoughts as I fall into that deepest of sleep.
Being Motherless
I think about my own kids who are really just beginning their lives and they will be motherless, unable to ask questions of me about this or that parenting situation. Who will not have a mother with them who says, “I love you,” with every exchange, who calls them at midnight on their birth day to sing “Happy Birth Day to Us.”
Cliché…
…as it is, this life was so short. It really went by in a flash.
I was just starting school at 6-years old, then in band playing flute for 7 years, marching in the Florida heat.
I was partying at the gay bar, then had a baby and married at the same blip in time. Nursing, toddlers, school-aged kids all within a month of each other. Graduations and a marriage… a split second in time.
My life in birth, 32 years long, seems like a blink.
Marriage to Zack, the two we had, hilarious fun, being in the news.
Owning a business that I hated… that time dragged on!
And then the kids were grown. When did that happen?
Writing. Always the writing. Meaning to write books that are now half written, like the rest of the world’s words, a silent bestseller in the drawer.
I can’t figure out why everything went so fast. The time was there… then gone.
Just. Gone.
And soon, I will be, too. Just gone.
Navelgazing Writer 