I think “They grow up so fast” is the cliche I hear most often during this phase of my life.  While I know this to be true, I am amazed again today at how fast my life seems to be going.  Warp speed.  I think being a working mother (in my case with pressing deadlines and the constantly looming duties of teaching) compounds my sense that life is rushing out from under my feet no matter how hard I work to catch up with it.  My children are aging.  My parents are aging.  I have a conference paper to write.  I have student papers to read and respond to.  I have classes to prepare.  It’s all beautiful, but there’s a sense of panic that I tune into during quiet moment.  The beauty feeds the panic because everything that I have right now–beautiful little girls and two healthy parents–will be different.  Before this year I knew all of this was true.  Kids grow up.  We all grow old.  I knew it.  But I didn’t know how deeply I would feel the loss.

As I’m writing this it’s Friday night and I still have work to do.  I haven’t taken a day off with the girls in two weeks, so maybe my panic and sadness is just a signal that I need Sabbath.  I need to be with them, rest with them, play with them.  I need to listen to them talk and brush their hair long enough to feel a little bit of boredom at what is static rather than panic at what is fleeting.