I’m having a moment y’all.
As I empty the dishwasher on this chilly, rain-promising day I watch Rivers through the window as she plays in the treehouse with her school friend. The sprinkling rain (and Leah having a friend over also) sent them running for an oasis.
I’m watching her laugh with her very amusing friend.
She looks different today…
Her smile and laughter has outgrown the kindergarten giggles I hear in the next room. She’s wearing socks and flip-flops with her black athletic pants and jacket.
She moves with a different stride…seems a bit more self-contained to me.
My first daughter is growing up. I know this. It’s just that I have three daughters and am often so busy with life I don’t absorb the moments.
Like this one.
She’s a beautiful girl, my Rivers. All moms should think and say their daughters are beautiful. And I do. I really, really do. Her smile is bright and dazzling but so is her spirit.
I’ve already spent so much of motherhood fretting over the results that will come. Today my heart hears a whisper in the rain…
We do the best we can at something we have never done before.
And one day will go.
Into the world.
My house is never clean enough.
My pictures are not bound together neatly in scrapbooks.
My meals are sometimes from a box.
My answer to “mom!” is sometimes a weary “what???!”
My mothering is less than what I planned in my head.
But the love is so much more.
So I run a big blanket and blue Easter Bunny peeps out to a treehouse in the rain.
Like the spring earth soaking up wetness, I absorb today. A million moments that make up a childhood passing right before my eyes.
The dishes press at me from the sink…but I will always have the dishes in my home.
Motherhood can really only be measured in moments. Moments that seem insignificant but speak extraordinarily loud to our own hearts as well as theirs.
See, she doesn’t know I’m having a moment or that she is, too. But there it is anyway. My Rivers. On a rainy day in the treehouse laughing and moving and living within the grace and magic of childhood.
Somewhere deep inside I sense how much I will miss her. And so I let the thought fly away…telling myself we have plenty of time.
But there could never be enough time to capture all the love and light she brings. I know I will share her a bit more with the world until one day she steps out into her future and calling for this life.
So for today…for every moment I have the presence of mind to absorb…I will stand close and warm myself by the fiery miracle that is my first-born daughter.