Keshet
Keshet is at my favorite infancy age: 6-12 months
It occurs to me that it is going by way too fast. I think I mentioned this before but every child you have increases how fast time goes by. With Keshet being my fourth it is going by exceptionally fast and every day I feel little sadness over this. I also of course, try to remember and compare her to my other kids at her age. It bothers me that most of the time I think "Oh yeah! I remember Novan doing that." I follow that up with "Why did I forget that?" To me, the greatest travesty of these mortal bodies is the HORRIBLE memory we have. There are so many things I wish to remember that were so beautiful and wonderful and full of joy. I simply cannot remember many things with the clarity and feeling that I did while living those events. Even a written down record doesn't properly convey the memory.
One particular feeling I get almost daily when I am playing with or observing Keshet is how she is just so cute that it hurts. You know that feeling inside like, "gosh if you were any cuter I might pee my pants!" I find myself wondering a lot if my other kids were that cute. I think they were. I've just forgotten how they were at her age.
The other thing I struggle to hold in my memory is how sweet Beya is with her. Keshet gets jostled around a bit by Beya but she either endures it patiently or she genuinely likes the attention Beya pays her (I think it's the latter).
I never want to forget the feeling in my heart when I walk into the room (either in the morning when I get her out of bed or just passing the room she's in) and Keshet flaps her arms and legs in excitement and big smile crosses her face when I acknowledge her in turn. All I have to do is smile at her and I've just given her the biggest gift. The simplicity of a baby's needs is so apparent and refreshing.
Will I remember how her head feels against my cheek or the smell of her neck? Will I remember how she kicks her right leg over and over again like a dog when you scratch their belly when I'm holding her because that's just what she does to pass the time? Will I remember how she reaches for my face while she's nursing?
Will I remember how she does nothing but kick her legs over and over when she's in the bath?
Will I remember how the fat roll on her right leg is lower than the one on her left and it always makes me laugh when I see it?
Will I remember what this is like? To have someone so wholly dependent on me and to have so much love in my heart that in the quiet moments as I hold her and she's falling asleep while I'm nursing her that it feels like I might be in paradise? When my other children are asleep and the house is quiet and I'm nursing her to sleep I wonder if this must be what it feels like to be full of peace and to know this simple act of nourishing my child has helped to get me there. "Everything is right," I think, "There is nothing that would make me happier at this very moment." And then there is nothing but gratitude for the opportunity to be a mother and experience this. "THIS is life," I think. "This is worth fighting for." And then I shake my head at the thought that this is but only a small part of what the next life has in store.
A lot of times we say that the thought of having an afterlife can be a great source of comfort when a loved one passes away. To me, this is true but I'm not sure I would want to live if I didn't know that one day I can have all these memories back. I look forward to the time that I can remember in crisp detail all these moments that I've had with all my children. To lose them and so many other joyous memories is as great as losing a life. Praise be to our Lord and Savior that they are not lost!
It occurs to me that it is going by way too fast. I think I mentioned this before but every child you have increases how fast time goes by. With Keshet being my fourth it is going by exceptionally fast and every day I feel little sadness over this. I also of course, try to remember and compare her to my other kids at her age. It bothers me that most of the time I think "Oh yeah! I remember Novan doing that." I follow that up with "Why did I forget that?" To me, the greatest travesty of these mortal bodies is the HORRIBLE memory we have. There are so many things I wish to remember that were so beautiful and wonderful and full of joy. I simply cannot remember many things with the clarity and feeling that I did while living those events. Even a written down record doesn't properly convey the memory.
One particular feeling I get almost daily when I am playing with or observing Keshet is how she is just so cute that it hurts. You know that feeling inside like, "gosh if you were any cuter I might pee my pants!" I find myself wondering a lot if my other kids were that cute. I think they were. I've just forgotten how they were at her age.
The other thing I struggle to hold in my memory is how sweet Beya is with her. Keshet gets jostled around a bit by Beya but she either endures it patiently or she genuinely likes the attention Beya pays her (I think it's the latter).
I never want to forget the feeling in my heart when I walk into the room (either in the morning when I get her out of bed or just passing the room she's in) and Keshet flaps her arms and legs in excitement and big smile crosses her face when I acknowledge her in turn. All I have to do is smile at her and I've just given her the biggest gift. The simplicity of a baby's needs is so apparent and refreshing.
Will I remember how her head feels against my cheek or the smell of her neck? Will I remember how she kicks her right leg over and over again like a dog when you scratch their belly when I'm holding her because that's just what she does to pass the time? Will I remember how she reaches for my face while she's nursing?
Will I remember how she does nothing but kick her legs over and over when she's in the bath?
Will I remember how the fat roll on her right leg is lower than the one on her left and it always makes me laugh when I see it?
Will I remember what this is like? To have someone so wholly dependent on me and to have so much love in my heart that in the quiet moments as I hold her and she's falling asleep while I'm nursing her that it feels like I might be in paradise? When my other children are asleep and the house is quiet and I'm nursing her to sleep I wonder if this must be what it feels like to be full of peace and to know this simple act of nourishing my child has helped to get me there. "Everything is right," I think, "There is nothing that would make me happier at this very moment." And then there is nothing but gratitude for the opportunity to be a mother and experience this. "THIS is life," I think. "This is worth fighting for." And then I shake my head at the thought that this is but only a small part of what the next life has in store.
A lot of times we say that the thought of having an afterlife can be a great source of comfort when a loved one passes away. To me, this is true but I'm not sure I would want to live if I didn't know that one day I can have all these memories back. I look forward to the time that I can remember in crisp detail all these moments that I've had with all my children. To lose them and so many other joyous memories is as great as losing a life. Praise be to our Lord and Savior that they are not lost!
Awe Rachel... You nailed it right on the head. I am completely bawling right now. I don't remember those things unless I really think hard about them. And then, I cry more because it's so hard to hold on to those memories. They do grow up fast, and no matter how hard I try to remember the emotional feelings, it's difficult to have those feelings come back when you try so hard to remember the memory itself. I try hard to cling to the feelings I have now... When Triston stops to pick a flower for me and gives me hugs and kisses, or when he crawls into my lap to snuggle (which he's really geting too big for, he's 3 inches taller than a lot of 4 year olds). But I try, and for as long as he'll let me, I will cling to the emotions as often as I can and do my best to let him grow and be independent. He can crawl in my lap, run his fingers through my hair, and love on me as much as he wants.... Because as we all know, we will one day be the "mean parents" ours were when we exercised our independence as teenagers... And now, I think I'm officially ready for another one. :-)
ReplyDeleteI miss you Rachel, thank you for sharing your stories. They are truly enlightening, inspiring, and entertaining all at the same time.
Oh I so agree. I have been having similar thoughts, especially while nursing Faye. I can tell she won't want to nurse much longer, but I want to hang on to those moments as long as I can!
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