My daughter has been a mama’s girl from the start. Where I go… she goes. Where I sit…she sits closer. Where I go to find peace and quiet…she joins me. Some days that is hard, but most days it fills me up. What she really wants is my time and attention.
All of it.
Some days I’m giving of that time and attention and other days it almost feels like an unbearable pressure. Remember those hard days when your kids were toddlers and you could barely comprehend that you would actually make it through the day and then it’s night and they fall asleep and you stare at them and your eyes fill up to overflowing and your heart feels like it will explode because you love them so much and finally you get to go to bed and hopefully sleep at least a few hours and then you are ready to start all over again the next day?
It doesn’t end…I’m thinking… until they leave the house at age 18…or 30. And you know what? I’m so very ok with that, because the truth is that nothing amazes me more than my children and how much they just want my time…my attention. They want to be with me more than anyone else in this world. That truly amazes me.
So even though I didn’t really want to drag out the bikes, pump up the tires and take my precious child to the vicious streets of crazy texting-while-driving Gladstonians this evening, I did it anyways. And I was given the gift of finally being able to say hi to the old man on the bike. From my car, I’ve watched this man ride his bike what seems to be every single day for the last year or more – through the Fall colors, through the cold temps and wet days of Winter and now into Spring again. There he is – no helmet, a determined look on his face, and not following a single rule of the road. I always want to yell out my car window “Hello there, Sir, what a fine day it is for a ride!”, but I am always afraid I will startle him, so my window remains rolled up and I just stare as I drive by, wondering about his story. As we approached him from behind today, again I was worried we would startle him, but Mai gave him a firm “on your left” and I pulled up beside him and said, “Hello there, Sir, what a fine day it is for a ride!”…
and I meant it!