When my baby was 4, she promised me that she would never grow up and she'd never leave her Momma.
In a year, that promise will be broken.
And so will my heart.
I am trying to wrap my brain around the fact that in a year my last chick will fly out of the coop. I'm not liking it very much.
There is a constant wrestling match going on in my head. One of me wants every day to go by quickly. I look forward to going to bed every night and dread each sunrise. The opponent in me wants time to slow down, but only on my terms. If I could have another 18 years with her, I'd take it in a heart beat.
I am really hoping for some compensation in other areas of my life to make up for the inevitable crash I foresee in 12 months.
And another thing. I feel old. My mind is slow. My body is achy and stiff. Is it just the summer heat sapping the life from me? I'm not okay with any of this right now.
I'm feeling my gypsy tendencies beginning to creep into the corners of my mind. Is it time to move? My family is not okay with any of that sort of talk right now. And yet, it may be inevitable.
The season is changing, I feel it in the air. I am so ready to release myself from the season I am in and yet nervous for what is to come.
There are a few people I know who are gloating and happy to see me and my family suffer. I struggle to forgive them. I keep on plugging away at life because I am obedient. And that is okay.