Eleven

Why are my little ones growing up so fast?  When will it ever feel like time is slowing down, instead of speeding up?  How in the world did my tiny baby turn eleven years old?    Who could have imagined that over a decade could pass so quickly?   Where has the time gone?  How do children change from toddler to near teenager in the blink of an eye?  What will I do when my littles just are not little anymore?

I am left with so many questions that leave me with a vast assortment feelings.

On one hand I am excited and in awe of how Trey is maturing.  He has a big heart.  He has an incredible memory.  He is smart.  He is social.  He loves to have fun.  He devours books, often in one sitting.  He is funny and creative.  He has steady conscience.  He knows the scripture stories by heart.  He is constantly giving me hugs, kisses and telling me 'I love you'.  He's a great kid.

On the other hand I realize how quickly he is growing up.  Rich will only attend one more session of Priesthood Conference alone.   He is just five years away from driving.  And dating.  Oh my.  I only have eight more years until he will serve a mission.  Simply put, he's turning into a young man and it's shocking.  Even when I've been with him almost every day of his life.

I can feel the sands of time slipping through my fingers. 

When we were recently at Lake Michigan, I watched in earnest as my little Zach dug his hands deep into the sand and grasp fistfuls in his chubby little palms.  He was intrigued.  As he looked closer to inspect this new substance, the mighty blustery wind pulled and grabbed at the minuscule specks, whisking them away.  No matter how many handfuls he would gather, the wind and gravity were too much for it to remain.  Soon it was gone and all that was left was a thin layer of sand that remained on the surface of his skin. 

As I reflect on the past eleven years of being a mother, my minds is filled with fragments of memories, flecks of moments and traces of what has been.  Each experience of life is like a tiny grain of sand that when added upon create the vast landscape of our life. 

As my mind tries to grasp those moments, recall the scent, smell, touch of the event it is like grasping a handful of sand.  Time wisps away details, but parts remain, stuck tight, never to be lost.

That is the fleeting feeling of time.  Sands of life that are sifted in the winds.  What we are left with are memories that remain, that thin layer of left on our hearts and in our minds.

Though it goes much deeper than just recalling memories. 

Days, weeks, months, years are passing by at such a rapid pace that I often feel like I'm trying to take those moments of life and grab on tight, wishing I could bottle them up.  Hoping that right now I could gather the sand in a lovely glass jar and put in a cork and not allow any more time to slip by. 

I know this cannot be, but yet, there are times that right in the moment I know for a certainty that one day my heart will break thinking back to the this era of life because I will desperately miss it all.  The thrill of a new discovery of a toddler, the zest for life a four year old exudes, a challenge met and won when a nine year old put his mind to something and followed through, the twinkle in an eleven year olds eye when he's dying to share a new idea.  These are the times I will always treasure.  The days when all my children are here under one roof.  When we still have our little safe haven from the storms of life they all will one day have to face.

I also worry that as the time whizzes by I will not be able to complete my work as a mother.  How can I send my children out into the world for college and missions when there is so much I might have missed?  I have taught them enough?  Made them work enough?  Help them to keep carrying on, even when the road is long and arduous?  Will they continue to climb to the top and reach their full potential, even when others throw up their hands in desperation and say 'I quit'?

It is when I start to panic that my job as a mother can never be accomplished, when the sands of life comfort me, give me reassurance and peace of mind.  I know that as Trey and all my children grow year by year, that every lesson, every heart to heart talk, every testimony building experience, every challenge they worked through become those flecks of sand that remain and hold tight to them despite the winds that blow.  They can be carried with them as they travel through life giving them the knowledge and help to get through when the storm gains strength and feels overpowering.

I might not be able to grab and told tight to every speck of sand, but I can continually add to the pile and know that some of it will hold fast.  I can't make time stand still, but I can enjoy every moment, take a million pictures and appreciate every stage my kids go through.

These are the sands of my life.  These are the moments that I will never forget, but I look forward to the future and new miles of that sandy beach still waiting to be discovered.