It is the beginning of Fall; and like the struggle of Summer giving way to a new season, I find the same tug-of-war in letting go of "motherhood."
Maybe that is what is spurring on this state of melancholy recollections.
I returned to the workforce in April~~It started as a simple box office job in an old renovated theatre...but not just any theatre~~The Franklin Theatre~~an old movie house reclaimed by the local preservation foundation and brought back to, and beyond, its former glory. It now boasts an $8.1 new wardrobe and hosts concerts, live theatre, comedians, fundraisers, community events, as well as movies. It's pretty obvious, I very much enjoy working here, and my days are filled with much variety and opportunities. Taking the position was a bold move on my part, for many reasons. The one that stands out most is the passing of motherhood as I once knew it and stepping out into the unknown by myself.
One of the privileges of this job is being able to have my "office" in the box office, which looks out over downtown Franklin's Main Street...its quaint ambience gives an air of vintage times; and on warm days like today, the bustling of people takes me on my own memory walk.
It's in those days, that I fall into this state of melancholy recollections. As I watch people of all ages and stages walk by, it's like watching my life~~past, present, and future~~walk back and forth in front of me.
Today, there was a very pregnant lady strolling, and it took me back to my pregnancies. Then my thoughts took a path right down my own vintage highway...the realization that I will never be pregnant again, and there's no chance of me becoming pregnant again...that i'll never have a growing child inside of me, reminding me of the life inside of me with its kicks, flutters, and hiccups...that I will never nurse again, never look at my child for the first time and wonder and marvel and the miracle of life that came from me.
There was also the plethora of women with strollers out for morning walks with their friends...Oh my! How my girls loved to be outside and go! They collected things...rocks, frogs, worms, shiny items...you name it, and it was a new treasure. And the many heartfelt conversations with those friends, not only about our daily "momness" but spiritual~~the growth we were experiencing as believers and how God was using our roles as mommies to grow us in His word, His truth, and His life and His relationship with us. And it dawned on me, I never took note of the very last time I took Hannah and Rebeka strolling, knowing this would be the last time for that daily ritual.
Or how about the many times the young women jet past on their morning run, and there was never the thought in my mind that "this will be the last time I am able to finish this 5 mile trek" before the disease stole away my physical abilities.
Last week, a young couple walked past, then stopped and asked if there were any tickets left for the performance~~and bought them at the last minute! I remembered a time when Keith and I would spontaneously do things like that.
All these things are remembrances of everyday life that we never stop, while we are in the midst of that moment, to consider that we may never pass this way again. The strange thing is that I DID indeed cherish those moments with Hannah and Rebeka much more than with Jessica and Melanie, experiencing first-hand how fleeting that time slips through the fingers. Yet, here I stand with the first job I've had in twenty years, and my cup still overflows!