May 1, 2017
This day 43 years ago I became a mother for the first time. I can barely stand to think back over the years I've spent growing up with my son. It's frightening how fast it all went and I have loved every step along the way. So many moments I wish I could go back and live again. Not to do over, though I made plenty of mistakes. Just to go back and feel the joy of every moment watching him grow up. I feel the same about the rest of my children: a daughter, then another son, then another daughter. I was so busy worrying about so many things and just trying to keep it all together, I didn't take time to stop and memorize moments.
On the other end of the spectrum, today is also the 24th anniversary of my mother's death. She died just shy of her 58th birthday. I turned 60 this year and my heart grieves that she never made it to the age I am now. It's like I had guidance from her all the way up until my 58th birthday and now there is a void. And just like with my children, I would give anything to go back and relive the moments with her and cherish those times more. But I was so busy with life, I didn't take time to stop and memorize the moments.
I love the life I had with my parents. I love that my mom was around to give me advise for as long as she was. I imagine there is always going to be some regret when looking back, but mostly I feel grateful. Grateful for my parents and the typical 1960s family we grew up in. Grateful for my children and the grandchildren they have given me. And really, just grateful for my life.