A Gap Closed

"Hold up Ainsley.  Watch where you're going," I place my arm on her chest to keep her from wandering into the path of the oncoming grocery cart.

She is often in her own world.  Imagining princes and horses and magic.  Dreaming of her next big adventure.

The woman pushing the cart nods and grins at me.  She looks to Ainsley, who is now squinting into the bright sun, and her grin widens and she says "Excuse me sweetie."

Behind her a very elderly woman shuffles on.  She stops at Ainsley, blocking the sun from her view.  I can tell immediately that this is the first woman's mother.  The resemblance is striking.

"Barb, did you look at this girl?" she asks still staring at my daughter.

Her weathered fingers brush Ainsley's unruly curls away from her eyes.

"Barb, did you see her eyes?" she asks.

Her shaking hands gently stroke Ainsley's soft cheek.

"Barb, just look at her.  Look at that sparkle."

A second wrinkled hand comes up to lift Ainsley's chin.

"You are a beautiful little girl," she whispers to Ainsley.

Ainsley wraps her small fingers around the woman's frail wrist.  "Thank you," Ainsley responds and tears well up behind my sunglasses.

The woman pauses for a moment, smiles at Ainsley and then moves on.

I take Ainsley's hand and we walk to the car.

"Mommy?"
"Yes Ainsley?"
"That lady was so nice.  She is like NonNon."
"Yep, she is probably NonNon's age."
"I love NonNon."

I buckle Ainsley into her carseat and I am struck by the beauty of the moment.  Age and youth joined for a split second.  For an instance, the difference between them didn't matter, that large gap was closed and my young daughter recognized that...just like she does with her NonNon.

Those Girls

I am at my sister-in-law's wedding, sitting at my table, watching her bridesmaids own the dance floor.

I used to be one of those girls.  I used to drink and dance until the sun came up.  A wedding meant a party.  An opportunity to spend the evening with my friends drinking as much as possible until that last song seeped through the speakers.  Going out afterwards, refusing to end the celebration.  A gang of well dressed wedding guests descending on an already crowded bar. 

There are times that I look at my life and wonder how I got here.  Wasn't I just graduating from college?  Didn't I just meet Clif?  Don't I have amazing plans for this weekend?  Shouldn't I be thinking about a prom dress?

No.  The answer to all these questions is no.  I graduated from college so long ago, that on the eve of my graduation I was wearing overalls at the bar.  When was the last time you saw someone over the age of 2 wearing overalls? Clif and I have known each other for a decade. Yeah, that's 10 years. My weekends are no longer spent primping for a night out on the town.  Now I feel cool if I can stay awake for SNL.  The fact is, I am now closer to Ainsley's high school prom than I am to my own.

How did that happen?  How did I wake up one morning middle-aged, married, mother of two?  Life spins by out of control.  I feel like I'm missing things, forgetting things.  Sometimes I get so caught up in the idea of preserving every single moment, that years just whiz by unnoticed. 

So, I sit and watch these girls.  Watch them dancing and singing and laughing.  Their wine glasses rocking to the beat of the music.  The amber liquid coming dangerously close to splashing over the edge.  Those days for me are so vivid, yet so far away.  I can remember some of those moments with precise clarity, but in the same breath I can't remember the last time I danced the night away with a drink in my hand.

There are times when I long for that.  Wish for a carefree day.  A day spent lounging on the couch watching reality TV.  An evening passed with friends over a long dinner.  A sunrise watched after a long night of silliness and youth.

But...

I sit, with my small boy perched on my shoulder.  His slow, deep breaths confirming his slumber.  I watch my young daughter twirling in the middle of these girls.  Her blond locks flapping against her cheeks.

And honestly, I don't miss it.  I don't miss those nights.  Now I have patty-cake and peek-a-boo.  Dress up and dance class.  Morning songs and bedtime routines.  Dora and Raffi.  Stained onsies and tiny socks.  I wouldn't trade any of it to be one of those girls again.

And one day...maybe soon, maybe years from now...those girls will sit at a wedding, watching others and they'll smile thinking the same thing.