Recently, my Mom gifted me a book.
It looks like a child's book, all big and square with a book jacket. In actuality it is a book just written for an oldish mom like me.
The book is titled
Let Me Hold You Longer
By Karen Kingsbury
If you don't mind too much, I've a little heart outpouring to do... yet again.
Let me Hold You Longer tells the story of a mother who wishes she had recorded
"the lasts"
We mothers take special note of the
firsts that our children achieve. But do we always notice the
lasts with such sentimentality? I can't say that I did. Until now, that is.
The older Naomi gets the farther away I step from what I adore.
Babyhood.
It's that precious stage from conception to oh, about one year old. Or whenever they start walking. (whichever comes first)
It's crazy isn't it? My baby is 8 months old and I feel like she just turned 18.
Yes, slightly cRaZy. But each month it hits me. This is the last time.
This is the last time.
Since I felt the ache of losing April and never knowing her firsts, it is fair to say that I am savoring every bit of Naomi's firsts. But her lasts keep piling up, as I hold her tighter than I might have had I not known loss.
What I try to take away from all of this
firsts and
lasts business are these things:
Although it is extreme blessing to record the firsts, experiencing the lasts is really what my heart desires. To see them grow, to watch them mature and learn, live and love.
All of my (our) children are gifts from a loving God. And not just in babyhood.
They are the gift that keeps on giving all throughout my life. I can bid sad farewell to each passing month and year, or I can relish the full life that they are living. I can record their
lasts because perhaps it means more
firsts are on the horizon.
In my last post I had been asking myself the question, "
Now what I do?"
Recently I've struggled with things like working outside the home, or the fact that I'm leaving the child bearing years, and even the insanity of moving to a small farm house. (that is a different post altogether)
As for the immediate, the answer is pretty clear.
Do. what I do.
Raise my family.
Notice their
firsts and
lasts and be grateful for each one.
Long ago you came to me,
a miracle of firsts.
First smiles and teeth and baby steps,
a sunbeam on the burst.
But one day you will move away
and leave me with your past.
And I will be left thinking of
a lifetime of your lasts. . .
Get this book. an inspirational tear jerker.
Thanks for reading.
And Mom, Thank you for the book.
