Enduring Truth

Leafing through my notebook, I came across an unfinished piece written just a few days before Dearest broke his leg. Despite all that’s happened since, my words of then are still true now.

“Life is so full these days. Morning to night, we are rushing. But it is so deliciously full – if calming the pace of our lives means giving up constituent parts of it, I’d rather the rush, complete as it is, than the missing.

Because each piece is so very vital.

Gone are the days when I used to go home and return to work refreshed, revitalized, rested.

It’s now the reverse.

Well, except for the rested bit – that, I’ve had to give up on entirely.”

Reading these words now, on the other side of the insanity the past 6 weeks have been, gives me hope. Life is so very much too full now, but, it is still delicious.

Tickle fights are delicious.

Chasing my son with my toy drill/sword and then saving him from the mounstrous dragon is scrumptious.

Hearing my son vehemently choose cooking over TV is music to my ears.

Watching my husband teach my toddler to whistle is delightful.

And kissing my son until he’s in fits of giggles is heavenly.

The rush, the weight, the strain, the stress, the tantrums, the whining, the discipline, the way too many “not now”s and “Mommy’s busy”s and “just a minute”s and “no”s, the never-ending errands and chores and clean-up, and the worry – are not.

But it all adds up to plain old life, full as it is.

And it is deliciously worth the living of it.


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