As a parent, there are moments that simply take your breath away. Moments that cause you to pause. It’s the moment when your child enters the world. It’s the moment when you hear them say, “I love you” for the first time.
It’s the feeling you get when you have to box up their clothes and graduate to the next size. It’s the moment when your life flashes before your eyes and you can envision your child leaving the nest (man, that moment really hurts my heart). It’s in these moments that you sit back and watch in awe as a miracle moves about.
Ryan and I had this moment last night. We were sitting in the backyard with Kelsey when she suddenly grabbed her big umbrella and prepared “for lots of rain!” It was clear skies, but we played along with her game anyway.
She struggled to grab the oversized umbrella, but with such persistence, she set it on the table, the way she had seen us do so many times before. She instructed us (as three-year-olds do) to get under the umbrella and “get out of the rain before you get wet!”. She would then run out from under the umbrella screaming and laughing, “I’m getting wet! I’m getting rain on me!” then she would dive back under cover into our arms.
Man, this game was fun. It was fun watching her imagination soar! Even though there wasn’t a cloud in the sky, to her, it was pouring rain and she was getting soaked. She laughed. We laughed. She ran – Ryan got up and ran. It was seriously one of those moments that made me pause.
This girl is going to grow up one day. Will she have memories of us playing in the backyard? Will she remember her mom and dad on their knees playing make-believe with her? I hope so. Ryan says that even if she doesn’t really remember this moment, like we do, that she will at least “have a feeling” about it. About the backyard. About this house. About us.
I’m not sure if she’ll remember this moment. In fact, I’m not sure what her earliest memory will be. But, I pray (I pray a lot) that she’ll always stay in my arms. No matter how old she gets. I hope she never grows out of playing with me. I hope she never loses her sense to dream and make-believe. I hope she always stays persistent and never lets anything – like a big bulky umbrella – stand in her way.
I wonder if this is how my mom felt about me. Gosh, as a parent, lots of questions go through your head – don’t they? I’m not sure what I’m really writing for. I think I just needed to get what I’m feeling out on paper. And who knows, maybe Kelsey will read this one day. And maybe – just maybe – she’ll remember this moment.