Days Keep Passing

Some days, I deal with deep levels of sadness, mourning what was. You are my babies. Time is not supposed to move this fast. You used to reach up to hold my hand. You used to ask to be held. I pulled a muscle in my arm carrying you for hours on the streets of New York City looking for an apartment. I was "dada." You used to dress up in costumes seven days a week and pretend to be Iron Man and Captain America. We would swing for hours playing "Would you rather." You would write me love notes. I miss the sounds of cartoon movies. You were a dinosaur and a princess for Halloween one year. I remember our first time sledding in the snow in Central Park.

Now you are teenagers. Preparing for high school and talking about college. I know this is what it's supposed to be, but it doesn't always feel good. You love to "body dive" in the ocean, and you would live in a swimming pool. I would pick you up and throw you in. We would play hide and seek in the house. I would win at Mario Kart, but now I don't. You shared a room. We went tobogganing down a mountain in Switzerland. Top ten life moments. We rode the train from Birmingham to New York. From Paris to Venice and all through Switzerland. We would ride the golf cart, Lil Wayne, to the General Store almost daily. How about family movie nights. Family love night. How many do we have left?

How do you hold onto time? I remember your bravery and first day of school in New York City. I remember walking you into your kindergarten class in Birmingham and your first day in daycare in Baton Rouge. I always love the Christmas pajamas. Our snowball fight in Battery City Park, just us two. 2016, the nights during the playoffs, dressing up in Cubs gear and hoping this would be the year. Some days, it feels like a loss, even though I still have you two. Surprise Disney Cruise, freezing as we floated down the Hudson to warmer waters!! Harry Potter Marathons over Christmas break. 

We set out to make a lot of memories as a family, and so far, we've succeeded. I want more. I can go back in time through my memories and pictures. I love it, but it also feels like a punch in the gut. It's permanent—it happened, and it cannot be taken away—but it feels fleeting. 

Everything has a season, and there is a time and a place for everything. I try to enjoy and embrace each of them, but that also makes it harder to let go. Your love for one another makes me happy. 

We still do a lot of these together, which is good; some we do not. I am trying to embrace the fact that you two are growing up. I guess that's the point of all this. Some days I struggle with it.