Long Days, Short Years
Eighteen years sounds like a long time. It isn’t.
Over our sink, my wife keeps a card that says, “The days are long, but the years are short.” Ain’t that the truth.
Last night Emily and I went over to help deep clean my son’s rental house. He’s moving in this week, getting ready for his wedding next week. That part still feels unreal. It happened fast. Too fast.
From learning to walk, to developing hobbies, to karate lessons, to a driver’s license, to graduation, to starting a career. Blink, and it’s done. All of it felt slow while it was happening. None of it feels slow now.
For the past year or two, before going to bed, I’d look out the window to make sure his car was in the driveway. Soon, it won’t be, and it shouldn’t be. It’ll be parked at his own place, with his wife. In time, Lord willing, the cycle will repeat: father to son, son to grandson. That’s how it goes.
This is a victory. I’m proud.
I didn’t set out just to have children. I wanted to raise men and women of God. And he is a man of God: responsible, diligent, kind. Still, I can’t get over how fast it all moved. I remember older people saying this when I was younger. Now I’m one of them. And they were more right than I could have understood back then.
Maybe today is a long day for you. Maybe your little ones are driving you nuts. My youngest, Foxe, gets into everything. It’s hard to get anything done. It’s frustrating. But he’s learning how the world works. Right now his world is small. Before I know it, I’ll be helping him carry boxes to his car too.
I know you’re tired. I know you feel like you’re failing some days. I know you feel overwhelmed. But the “golden years” usually don’t look golden while you’re in them. You only see them clearly in the rearview mirror. And if you’re in that season now, you’re standing in it, whether you feel like it or not.
Embrace it. It’s short. It’s unique. It doesn’t come back.
With Hudson, I’m stepping into a new season. And I’m excited to see where the Lord takes him. This is the good life, even if lived with a touch of sadness.
You are absolutely accurate here. We have now raised and sent out 5 and have 6 grandsons as the fruit of this labor. I would not trade it for anything except my Lord and King, himself. And it is always with a touch of sadness as you watch the ones who needed you grow strong in their faith and need you less and less. The grandsons wrestling with you on the floor are the compensation, but even they do not truly need you, they need their parents, and that is as it should be.
Yes, it was quite a jolt when my oldest moved out, shortly after turning 20. She wasn't going far away, at first, but I too felt that twinge of sadness along with a sudden realization that the clock had run out.
What seemed like an endless existence raising a bunch of small children, day in and day out, really wasn't. Now, there is only one of our nine still at home, and he could easily buy his own home if he wanted.
Everyone tells you they grow up fast, and it's really hard to grasp that, when they're small and constantly in your hair, but it really is true.