I try to remember but......

This post I read today started me thinking, or remembering, or trying to remember. Especially the part where she referred to "making memories for one day when--"

One day when those activities would not be part of their normal day.

Oh yes, I remember keeping calendars of busy days filled with all the things that go in to raising three all-American boys.

I remember collecting those crammed packed calendars and thinking, "I will go back and reread them one day when my days aren't so busy--when I actually do have time to sit down and read."

But you know how it goes, I couldn't lay my hands on them now for love nor money.

But I try to remember.............

I try to remember the day I brought my first one home from the hospital--the first day my mom and I showered together--well, he gave us the shower--then we laughed until we almost wet ourselves.

I try to remember the day my 6 year old son wanted me to wear my midnight blue satin Christmas dress as I walked across the street from our home to his elementary school to get him and his classmates as I brought them back to our house for his birthday party.  Yes, when I asked him if he had anything special he wanted from me for his birthday that is what he asked for--me to wear that dress as I came to pick them up.  I have to smile..........

I try to remember when my middle son (first grade at the time) didn't come home from school one day.  I had watched him that morning as I watched all three of them every morning for several years as they walked from our house down the street a half block or so, cross it and go in the school house door.

I try to remember the terror when after about 30 minutes I realized he was not going to come home.

And the panic as the principal told me there were no other students left in the school.

And the gall I thought he possessed when he asked me to sit down so we could "talk about it."

"Talk about it"--I had to run or scream or panic or cry or lament--wouldn't that make him come home sooner?

I try to remember running home, getting out the phone book to call the police and having the phone jar me with its startled ring.

I try to remember the RELIEF when a very amused mother (a mile and a half away) asks me if I have a son named Michael and tells me that she had picked up the boys who were invited to her son's birthday party--and somehow he had gotten on the van with them.

Well, just try to exclude my son, ma'am--he will make sure he's invited!

And I try to remember the times I held all of them so tight and prayed under my breath, "Lord, help me never forget what it feels like to hold them so close like this.  I know that one day............."

And now I have grandchildren from 22 years to 2 months old and ..........

I try to remember three weeks ago when I gathered my baby grandson hard against my chest and repeated that same prayer when everyone left the room.

I try to remember and I am so thankful for the gift of memory but...............

We can't go back and relive those moments.

We can only relive through our memories and our memories are only a reflection, a very faint watercolor reflection of those by-gone days.

But I do have the gift of today......and I will praise Him for---

that first cup of coffee in the mornings

the time to spend alone with Him before facing my day

time for photography and reading

and for volunteering and mentoring

and for watercoloring

and devoted time to prayer

and writing blog material that makes me cry--

For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known. 1 Cor. 13:12

Turning lots of pages today,

© all photographs and text property of Dianne Hogue unless otherwise noted