I’m grateful for…
A little bit of fun, a little bit of crazy, a little bit of spontaneity, a little bit of affection and a little bit of love… a lot of love.
I think it’s the perfect recipe for our imperfect life.
Sometimes it’s hard to remember what it feels like to be a child. It shouldn’t be hard to see things from their perspective – since we’ve all been on that same journey of childhood – but often it’s something I remind myself to do. I remind myself to be grateful for their inquisitiveness, for their exploring, for their enthusiasm and for their wonder as I learn to see things anew the way they do.
This bunny is almost 7 years old. I bought him when I fell pregnant for the very first time, just weeks before our wedding day. Three days later, on our honeymoon, after a very traumatic time in hospital we learned that we had lost our baby. In the days to come I held this bunny close, I slept with him and I cried with him and I wondered if there would ever be a baby that would cuddle and love him like a child should.
I’m happy to say of-course that he has been loved and snuggled by all three of my children but somehow he has never become the toy; the one that makes it into the bed at night or dragged to the grocery store during the day. I think that’s because in a way he’ll always be the bunny I bought for May – for our baby that never was – and that’s a healing thought.
The poem below seemed to fit perfectly with today’s photo when Hannah and Blake gave me my own Dandelion bouquet.
If I don’t have time to cuddle that warm, pajamas-clad body with glorious bedhead first thing in the morning,
If I don’t have time to press my lips upon the cheek of the man I love at nighttime,
Then I have to ask.
If I don’t have time to call my aging parent for a quick check-in,
If I don’t have time to offer a smile to the weary cashier at check-out,
Then I have to ask.
If don’t have time to listen, really listen, to what my child has to tell me from the backseat of the car,
If I don’t have time to tell her all the things I love about her from edge of her bed,
Then I have to ask …
What DO I have time for?
Clearing the inbox
Scrolling the newsfeed
Cleaning the kitchen counter ‘til it shines?
Buying things I don’t need
Saying yes because I can’t say no
Filling my days ‘til my calendar overflows?
I have to ask …
What DO I think makes life worth living?
I know. I know.
It’s the pajamas cuddles,
It’s the nighttime kisses,
It’s knowing I said, “I love you,” just in case my parent’s ripe old age catches up with him today.
It’s the dandelion bouquets,
It’s the uncontrollable laughter,
It’s the worries my child confesses at the most inconvenient times.
Please let me not be too busy,
To experience these moments—these moments that make life worth living.
Don’t let me place life’s most pressing matters over the moments that matter most in life.
If there isn’t enough time to live, then I need to ask myself what I am living for?
© Rachel Macy Stafford 2014 https://www.facebook.com/TheHandsFreeRevolution?fref=ts
I can’t think of anything I would rather be doing with my life. Everything else seems superfluous, almost unnecessary compared to this. It is my greatest challenge and my greatest reward. It’s a privilege and a pleasure and I am beyond grateful that I have been blessed with the opportunity to care for, guide and love these three very special people.