“How old will I be when Logan is 10?,” my son, Lucas, asks on the car ride to school.
“8 years old,” I reply.
“And how old will Logan be when I’m 22?”
“24,” Logan declares with certainty.
This game of verbal addition and subtraction is a regular pastime for Lucas. He thinks a lot about how old he is in relation to everyone in the family.
These days, I’m thinking a lot about age, too. In 40 days I’ll turn 40 years old. I’m excited and reflective. And I’m wondering what the next 40 years have in store. Actually, what does the next year hold? I flow between feeling like I have a new time unfolding before me and feeling like I only have so much time left. I feel so busy. How to keep up with everything, to do everything I want to do?
When I was pregnant with my first child, Logan, one of the most memorable gifts I received was, oddly enough, an open pack of newborn pampers. Unused, of course. The pampers were repackaged in a pretty basket and in each pamper was a note from each person at the shower. The notes shared advice, good wishes, and reflections. I still remember the note from my friend, Esther, who wrote, “This time is definitely time-less. But remember that it is also timeless.”
She was right. I often feel like I don’t have enough time — to run errands, clean the house, exercise, go to a movie, sit down, sleep, read. But I see my children growing up so quickly and I know that my time is also quite timeless. My time is full. And in such meaningful ways. Would I want it any other way?
For me, writing is a vital mode of self-expression, self-reflection, and creativity. I really enjoy it — even when I find myself at a loss for words. So, for the next 40 days, I’m going to use this blog as a standing appointment to write daily. It’s my way of giving time to something that has been so important to me for so long, that I value yet don’t always manage to practice. And knowing that, every once in a while, someone might stop by and see what I’m up to, I’m even more likely to make sure I keep the appointment.
And if I miss a day? I’ll just return the next day.
“How old will you be, mommy, when I’m infinity?,” Lucas wonders.