"Watching one's small humans age and grow up packs a serious punch. It's like being stuck in a dream unable to speak, like being a ghost that can see but not touch, like standing on a huge grate while a storm rains oiled diamonds, like collecting feathers in a storm. Parents in love with their kids are all amnesiacs, trying to remember, trying to cherish moments, ghosts trying to hold the world. Being mortals, having a finite mind when surrounded by joy that is perpetually rolling back into the rear view is like always having something important on the tips of our tongues, something on the tips of our fingers, always slipping away, always ducking our embrace."
~N.D. Wilson, "Death by Living"
Sarah has been serving as a nanny. Recently she and her small one each drew a picture of their families. When she sent us this photo, I felt joy intermingled with grief. Joy in observing the crayon rendering of such valuable relationships, joy in remembering so many sweet years of building those relationships, joy in watching my children grow into young adults and flourish. At the same time, I experience grief that my favorite people no longer live under my roof, grief that we no longer share daily mundane tasks, grief that their songs no longer float through the rooms.
In July, we hosted Olivia's bachelorette party. All these lovely ladies spent the weekend under our roof, and Sarah coordinated memory-making activities for this group that will help keep Olivia accountable and encouraged throughout her marriage to Connor.
The special weekend also fell on Sarah's 25th birthday. She insisted that we not celebrate because the time was to be focused on Olivia, but we didn't listen to her! Katherine made a beautiful tiramisu, and we surprised Sarah with a rousing rendition of "Happy Birthday to You".
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