Nostalgia is on the rise

Sometimes with the day-to-day it's hard to remember what used to be. Kids grow out of shoes, teeth get lost, we move, things change, weeks, months, years go by. The transformation is so slow, everchanging life, we barely notice it. Then time steps infront of our forward motion, takes out his wallet and shows me a photo of a baby. Something we held on to but never looked at again since it was taken. Freezing that fleeting moment in time. It takes me a moment to figure out who it is, how old they were, where we lived. The realization trickles through my brain at the same time a pain stabs at my heart. My gut clenches as I process what I see.

That's my baby!

Oh look, she's so TINY!

Oh my, she's so big now.

The last is said with much less enthusiasm as the ache of nostalgia rises in me. Where did that time go? I remember it clearly, now that I see the images. How could things have gone this far? I think of all the days compressed between then and now and it hurts. Tears prick my eyes. How many days were good ones since then? How many did I think were bad? Was I a good mommy through this time? Did I make her happy?

I think being nostalgic is feeling bittersweet. I'm glad for the time we had, yet pained that slice of it is over. Those days will never be again and I worry I didn't live them right. I didn't live up to what my children should have as a mom. Who I should have been as a wife, a woman. My baby will never be a baby again. My throat constricts and swallowing made difficult, painful. Pushing back emotions that are more regret than I want to realize.

Though the realization is with me now, helping to change my day today I know it will pass. Time will step away, allow my life to tumble forward until that next time it decides to stop me and remind me that the life we live has a limit and once it's over, it's gone. Hour to hour, day to day, year to year. We only get once.

Cordelia age Two. A series of photos pulled off an old SD card.

Cordelia age five.