"When we lose one we love, our bitterest tears are called forth by the memory of hours when we loved not enough." Maurice Maeterlinck
So begins the wondering of how I am as a wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend. A vicious voice whispers that I'll never be good enough, I'll only have a life full of regrets. But today, it isn't quite as loud as the other voice, still a whisper, but one that is intense and sounds a lot like my own. It keeps telling me that signs like this are just reminders, not there to make me feel guilty, but to spur on progress.
The Holidays are fast approaching, and in this ever busier society, time is more precious than I ever thought possible. I want to sit at the table, with my family and reminisce about the crazy antics of childhood. I hope we play a game or two, and revel in the hilarity that is bound to appear once the inhibitions of time have worn away. I don't want to miss a moment. I want to wrap it up in tissue, tenderly laying it away to be savored during the separation of time and distance. I want to tie it up in a bow, and give it to myself as a valued gift, a veritable treasure, time together.
Perhaps I should prepare now for a run on a sledding hill, to give my children a memory that they will recall fondly, even though I hate being cold. We can have a time where we throw snowballs, fall down and make snow angels, and come in to steaming cups of hot cocoa. My heart will take pictures, and bind them together, wrapping me in a blanket of warm memories.
I intend to take time those I love, to make sure that I love them enough. I don't want to have bitter tears when the time comes. I fully intend to love more than enough.
*Thank you Google for the image*