It is a strange thing to think how a year’s time can pass slowly and quickly.
It has been a mighty 12 months. In many years I am certain I will look back on this year and think head shaking thoughts. My life as an adult has always been a little hectic—think move, pregnancy, birth, deploy and repeat about six times. That brings us to now. And magically the word move is slowly creeping its way into our conversations. Part of me is very ready for my husband to retire from his military service. That is the part of me that craves stability. I want my kids to know this land we live on, to make their marks on the walls of our home to see how much they’ve grown. To watch them grow up along side of the same bunch of goofy friends. To plant perennials and see them come up year after year.
Then there is another part of me that craves the adventure. It would be hard for me to watch him hang up his hat. He wears his uniform with pride and truly I believe his service has made and continues to make the world a better place. Do I want him to give that up just so I can grow peonies?
We won’t move now, or even this summer. It is the decisions that have to be made now that will affect our family later. I know that whatever happens will happen, God has always taken care of us even when I had trouble understanding the how and why.
I kind of feel like I need to let some of this emotion go so I can be a little more carefree. I wanted to get back to New England so bad for so many years and now here we are and it is wonderful. It is like I can’t get on with anything because of the what-ifs. Almost a desperation but not quite.
So here and now I will look ahead with optimism.
I will be less focused on what I have little control over.
We will plant a garden.
I will play with my children.
We will raise a pig. (Really we will, it arrives soon.)
I will sew shortalls for Sawyer that really emphasize his pudgy thighs.
Sawyer turned one yesterday. He didn’t know it but loved the excitement—screeching whenever anybody got in his face and said “Happy Birthday”. There is a huge difference from your oldest child turning one to your sixth child turning one. Less emphasis on presents and more emphasis on how grateful I am to get to love this child. He has taught me so much!
He has my husband’s red cheeks and reminds me of a little old Irish man.
There is an Irish saying that says something like…
“You've got to do your own growing, no matter how tall your grandfather was.”
That has more meaning for me than you will ever realize, and for my little Sawyer boy who is growing before my eyes.
PS If you are southern when you say peonies it sounds like you are saying panties. Just an fyi from me who lives in the north.