“The reason people find it so hard to be happy is that they always see the past better than it was, the present worse than it is, and the future less resolved than it will be”

– Marcel Pagnol

Day one of my two-week adventure is drawing to a close.  Since my new schedule has me leaving the house by 7:00AM, this seems like a good time to write my blog entry for tomorrow.  What a great day this has been so far!  I spent the morning beginning new studies that excite my mind and my spirit in ways that have me bubbling over with energy.  I spent the afternoon enjoying the company of my princesses, whose job it is to teach me once again about what it means to be a small child.  I have raised my share of children; and when I look back on the toddler days, I remember the sweet and poignant times when love and kindness spilled from the little people in my care.  They showed me that there was great value in the many small and repetitive acts that I performed as a mother.  There was the time when I purposely brought one candy bar home from the grocery store and gave the whole thing to one of my sons and watched him break it in half without a second thought and hand half to his brother.  There was the time when my little daughter was thirsty and too short to reach the water fountain; and before I could empty my hands and lift her, her brother was on his hands and knees on the floor letting her stand on his back while she drank.  These are special memories that overshadow many less-enjoyable ones and color my past with shining hues.

As I cleared the lunch table today, I found myself with a two-year-old who had decided without a doubt that she would not be taking a nap today.  She has stamina of the sort that only two-year-olds can manufacture, a sort of single-mindedness that we adults could only hope to have at a time when we need to persevere.  It was tube-feeding time for her three-year-old sister, and she began to well up with tears as she realized that her Mommy would not be home to do this for her.  Grandma would have to suffice; but in that moment, it was not a happy thing.  I thought of my friends, the ones who have predicted that this job of toddler-sitting will leave me drained; and I could understand their concern.  It was my job to get these girls fed and napped so they would be in good shape when their parents returned at the end of the afternoon.

In the midst of it all, I found my mind accessing memories of similar days with my own children.  I suppose those long-ago days were not quite as rosy as I remembered them.  I remembered feeling frazzled as I tried to juggle a teenager, two tween-agers, a toddler, and a baby and see that all their needs were met — and let’s not forget the laundry and meals for a family of seven.  I remembered cooking dinner with a crying two-year-old on my hip, stirring the pasta while the baby lay cooing at her crib mobile in the next room and cradling the phone between my chin and shoulder as I talked to my eldest son about what time he would be home from play practice.  It’s funny how much energy I expended in those days just bemoaning how chaotic my life could be.  Looking back, I see that the only things that were important were the outcomes that showed me it was all worthwhile.  Maybe this is why the past always seems better than it really was.

What a trap we can fall into if we judge the present based on our rose-colored memories of days gone by.  How thankful I was today that I could see that in the end all the crying and stubbornness and despair would fall away, and I would be left only with the memory of succeeding to feed my princess and the mental picture of how sweet the little one looked when she finally lost her battle with the sandman and lay sleeping peacefully on my lap.  What is important about the present is that all the difficulties are simply vehicles for the successes we will celebrate later on.

As for the future, I think I can predict that the day will come when the sweet memories of these two little sisters will be categorized in the same small acts of kindness and love that I carry from their father’s early years.  Will the future be resolved?  I hope not, because resolution might mean that the story is done.  It would be sad to see it end, because I can only believe that it becomes more special with each generation.

I come to the end of my day thinking, ‘Isn’t it weird how the same things that drained my energy the first time around fill me with joy, now that I have the perspective of time on my side.’  Isn’t it weird that we would predict that my present will be difficult and draining and something to be endured when, in reality, it raises my awareness to new levels and sends me dancing into tomorrow.  The past may never be quite as rosy as we remember it to be, but the present certainly is not as difficult as we think.  As for the future, I can’t wait to see how it will unfold.