A couple of weeks ago I wrote about how the time with your children is so short. They grow up fast and soon enough the dependence they have on you lessens. We as mums get tired, and we sigh with relief when they can dress themselves, when they potty train, when they aren’t demanding “just one more story”. “Just a minute…” is something I know I say all too often.
I wrote about how it is only now that my oldest two have left home and are trying to figure out life for themselves, do I look back on their childhoods and wonder where it went so fast. One minute they were clutching onto me after a bad dream. Now they don’t need me like they did then. I blinked and those years went and I’ll never get them back. It is only now I realise how precious they were when at the time I was so busy with whatever it was I was busy with, I didn’t realise how fast the time would go.
I then came across this poem written by Debra Barone which sums it all up completely.
To My Grown Up Son
My Hands were busy through the day;
I didn’t have much time to play
The little games you asked me to.
I didn’t have much time for you.
I’d Wash your clothes, I’d sew and cook,
But when you’d bring your picture book
And ask me please to share your fun
I’d say: “A little later, son.”
I’d tuck you in all safe at night
and hear your prayers, turn out the lights,
Then tip toe softly to the door…
I wish I’d 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.
How is that for a reminder to treasure the moments with our children while they are still young?