missing yesterday
2008-04-10, 9:29 p.m.
When my son was just a newborn and it seemed as though I were constantly experiencing hormonal crying jags, I would sit on the couch with him in my arms, or asleep on my shoulder, or suckling from my breast (which he was doing at least every two hours back then), and and I would start sobbing because I was already thinking about the day he would grow up and leave us. I was thinking about all the horrible things in the world that I wanted to protect him from, (pedophiles, bullies, terminal illness, drugs and alcohol pretty much sums it up), and I was thinking about my own mother and how hard it must have been for her leaving my brother and I, who were teenagers at the time, behind when she realized she was going to die.
There is nothing worse than losing a child except for knowing you won't be around to see them grow up, first day of school, first ball game, or dance recital, prom, graduation, college and eventually their wedding.
I pray to god that I live to see my son through all of the wonderful milestones in his life, and that all of the love that my husband and I have for him is enough to protect him from the evils of the world.
Of course now I've got things a bit more in perspective, although it does pain me when I think that the last six months of his life are already gone and that's six months less time I'll have to spend with him.
Which is why when I recently discovered this poem it really made me think about how important it is to pay attention to, and appreciate every moment we have with our little ones because before you know it they're all grown up and you find yourself mourning the loss of the baby you once held in your arms.
I guess it's a popular poem, so some of you may have already heard it. But I still wanted to share it with you.
To My Grown-Up Son
My Hands were busy through the day;
I didnt have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
I didnt have much time for you.
Id Wash your clothes, Id sew and cook,
But when youd bring your picture book
And ask me please to share your fun
Id say: "A little later, son."
Id tuck you in all safe at night
and hear your prayers, turn out the lights,
Then tip toe softly to the door...
I wish Id stayed a minute more.
For life is short, the years rush past...
A little boy grows up so fast.
No longer is he at your side
His precious secrets to confide.
The picture books are put away,
There are no longer games to play,
No good-night kiss,
No prayers to hear...
That all belongs to yesteryear
My hands, once busy, now are still,
The days are long and hard to fill,
I wish I could go back and do
The little things you asked me to.
Alice E. Chase - 1975
YESTERDAY - TOMORROW
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