You did it!
You've survived yourself, your kids, every last bad day you've ever had... you've lived through it all.
Logan's teenage years, Lillie's dramatics, sweet Lou... the years pass so quickly. I know your house is empty and cleaner than it's ever been. There's no more peanut butter and jelly paste built up on Lou's side of the dinner table. You won't find socks stuffed in the couch crevices tonight when you get home from work. There will be no more FEMA sized natural (and mostly unnatural) disasters taking space in Lillie's room. There will be no one to fuss at when the dishes haven't unloaded themselves.
They won't be there, and the silence will be deafening.
Future you... I can guarantee that 10, 20, 30 years from now you won't be sticky with sweat and soap remnants, physically exhausted yet faking pure disgust as Lou sticks his feet in your face during his post bath massage. Well, I would at least hope you're not doing this still when he's 14... 24... 34... maybe he'll still be there needing your assistance while you guide his way. Maybe you'll even need an assistant to help you monitor him. Or maybe... as your biggest challenge of cultivating independence in your children, he will be on his own. It's scary to think about now, but anything and everything is possible.
Maybe you'll have a partner to come home to at night. Maybe when you open the door, the smell of dinner will invite you inside. Perhaps you'll both plop down on the couch after a long day at work and just stare at each other while you shovel noodles in your face from whatever Chinese place is delivering these days. Future you, I pray that your life will be filled with travel and love and light. I know that you never thought it would happen, but the days of struggling to make ends meet and hustling to get ahead for yourself and them... they'll be over. You won't have to work to play the part of mom AND dad. I hope you do have a partner who lets you sit back and relax, that does their part and loves you despite your crazy Irish hair that sticks straight up and does what it wants. I hope the days of anxiety and depression are somewhere far far in the distance of your rear view mirror. I know how hard you worked to be free of that darkness and how much of it lifted when you were free of their father. I know it scared you when you went nearly a year without fear before it began to creep back. I know you scratched and clawed your way out of it's grip. I know also that you'll survive. Wherever there is light, darkness cannot hide inside of you. You are a strong warrior, mama. You're a fighter and capable of anything you put your mind to.
So... future you? Hats off to YOU. You'll read this and maybe shake your head at how silly your words from 36 year old you sound. Maybe you'll even say, "but what about the time when..." GIRL. C'mon, girl... You have survived 110% of every single bad day you've ever had. You survived and no matter what happens next? You'll plow through it headfirst knowing that even if you're feeling alone, you're not. Between all the family and friends you've had support you up until this point and God on your side, what do you have to be afraid of?
I love you, future you. I love you and I'm so proud of you. Those words are heard few and far between, but they're true. You built babies, ran marathons, pushed galley carts and climbed ALL THE STAIRS with that body. Those lips kissed babies till they were chapped. Those arms held onto parents and grandparents. You're incredible and beautiful and smart and more loved than you'll ever be willing to admit. Take time for you, future you... Take time to fall in love with yourself again and hug those babies tighter and remember the smell of their sweet baby skin while you pat yourself on the back. You did this... you got this... you're incredible.
Love,
The you of years past...
You've survived yourself, your kids, every last bad day you've ever had... you've lived through it all.
Logan's teenage years, Lillie's dramatics, sweet Lou... the years pass so quickly. I know your house is empty and cleaner than it's ever been. There's no more peanut butter and jelly paste built up on Lou's side of the dinner table. You won't find socks stuffed in the couch crevices tonight when you get home from work. There will be no more FEMA sized natural (and mostly unnatural) disasters taking space in Lillie's room. There will be no one to fuss at when the dishes haven't unloaded themselves.
They won't be there, and the silence will be deafening.
Future you... I can guarantee that 10, 20, 30 years from now you won't be sticky with sweat and soap remnants, physically exhausted yet faking pure disgust as Lou sticks his feet in your face during his post bath massage. Well, I would at least hope you're not doing this still when he's 14... 24... 34... maybe he'll still be there needing your assistance while you guide his way. Maybe you'll even need an assistant to help you monitor him. Or maybe... as your biggest challenge of cultivating independence in your children, he will be on his own. It's scary to think about now, but anything and everything is possible.
Maybe you'll have a partner to come home to at night. Maybe when you open the door, the smell of dinner will invite you inside. Perhaps you'll both plop down on the couch after a long day at work and just stare at each other while you shovel noodles in your face from whatever Chinese place is delivering these days. Future you, I pray that your life will be filled with travel and love and light. I know that you never thought it would happen, but the days of struggling to make ends meet and hustling to get ahead for yourself and them... they'll be over. You won't have to work to play the part of mom AND dad. I hope you do have a partner who lets you sit back and relax, that does their part and loves you despite your crazy Irish hair that sticks straight up and does what it wants. I hope the days of anxiety and depression are somewhere far far in the distance of your rear view mirror. I know how hard you worked to be free of that darkness and how much of it lifted when you were free of their father. I know it scared you when you went nearly a year without fear before it began to creep back. I know you scratched and clawed your way out of it's grip. I know also that you'll survive. Wherever there is light, darkness cannot hide inside of you. You are a strong warrior, mama. You're a fighter and capable of anything you put your mind to.
So... future you? Hats off to YOU. You'll read this and maybe shake your head at how silly your words from 36 year old you sound. Maybe you'll even say, "but what about the time when..." GIRL. C'mon, girl... You have survived 110% of every single bad day you've ever had. You survived and no matter what happens next? You'll plow through it headfirst knowing that even if you're feeling alone, you're not. Between all the family and friends you've had support you up until this point and God on your side, what do you have to be afraid of?
I love you, future you. I love you and I'm so proud of you. Those words are heard few and far between, but they're true. You built babies, ran marathons, pushed galley carts and climbed ALL THE STAIRS with that body. Those lips kissed babies till they were chapped. Those arms held onto parents and grandparents. You're incredible and beautiful and smart and more loved than you'll ever be willing to admit. Take time for you, future you... Take time to fall in love with yourself again and hug those babies tighter and remember the smell of their sweet baby skin while you pat yourself on the back. You did this... you got this... you're incredible.
Love,
The you of years past...
No comments:
Post a Comment