Gather ye rosebuds . . .

. . . while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying . . .

Robert Herrick wrote this to The Virgins, encouraging them to make much of time. I have taught this poem so many times in my former incarnation as Senior English Teacher, but I find its words mean more - oh! so much more - now that I am daily reminded of how unceasingly and unmercifully time marches on -- stealing my baby away from me and leaving a toddler in her place. Devastating and inspiring at the same time.

To illustrate my point, obsevere:

Dacey at the beginning of September, 2005


And my sweet "baby" just a few weeks ago, beginning of September, 2006:



Oh, it just hurts my mama heart. But then God, in His graciousness, opens a window of grace to help me cope with Old Time a-flying. Like just tonight, as I nursed D before bed, I noticed that she has held on to one habit from babyhood that always makes me smile -- she has this wonderful habit of playing with and picking at her fingers while she nurses. I am not totally positive, but it seems like I can remember her doing this nearly from the first day she latched on for some mama milk. She has never been one to hold our fingers or play with beads or (thank you Lord!) pinch me. Her own lovely, perfect fingers provide distraction enough to keep her occupied for these ever-shortening moments together.

- - - - -

Thank you, Meghan, for the encouragement to not completely quit writing entries here. Honestly, a major project I am working on is some writing I have been needing to do for a long time. I think/hope writing up entries here will warm my brain and transition my thoughts so I can slip into my Writer Mommy skin.