The wishing.

I don't know if I become more keenly aware of the brilliance of the changing colors of the leaves each year, or if at their peek my emotions are simply touched in new ways, but it always hits me at least once. This year is no exception. Some of the reds seem a deeper red. Some of the oranges and yellows are so vivid they seem to make the trees appear lit up. Despite the cold and the wet weather we have been having for several days, the leaves are still turning colors and the changing season is in full swing. That, coupled with the recent death of little Jaymun and the daily growth and changes we see in our little Crew from day to day, makes me pause and think and wonder and ponder. All over again.
I pulled out a couple of photos of Teagan and Brock and remembered the time I shared with them at this time of year. Fall can be such a fun time of the year- especially if the weather stays just warm enough to enjoy long afternoons outside. There's something so wonderful about the fresh air and crisp leaves and the reality that living in Michigan means the snow could start to fall at anytime, so you need to take advantage of being outside without being bundled up as much as you can. =) I recall those afternoons outside with Teagan and Brock so clearly. We would go next door and rake a couple of bags of leaves (after asking permission to rake and take their leaves!) and then bring them home to our front lawn and dump them out and jump in them. The leaves would spread wider and wider and Teagan would ask for the rake and I'm sure she would have even skipped dinner to stay outdoors and jump and play awhile longer. We moved from this home across town after the snow fell and as I looked at these pictures I realized Teagan never got to jump in the leaves at our "new" house.
I never would have imagined as I took this picture that this would be the last time I would capture Teagan on film playing in the leaves. I know I have looked at these pictures and wished for these moments back again. It happens every year. If you want to know the truth, it can happen anytime. It often does. Ask any parent who has lost a child and they will likely say the same thing I am writing here today. The "wishing" never ends.
There are moments I wish I had back. Moments I wish I could re-live. There are moments I wish I could do over. There are moments I wish I could freeze and never let them go. It's a part of grief that just is. The wishing. It never ends. A part of my heart will always be reserved for "wishing", however the other part of my heart knows there's something so intense and incredible about the "here". The now is to not be taken lightly, although I somehow lose sight of this fact all too often.

Yesterday as I reflected and rediscovered the brilliance of the changing colors of fall, I also was 'present enough' to grab the camera and capture the now. Crew is walking and becoming a little boy before my eyes. He is changing almost everyday! The other 4 kids are so full of energy too, but happen to be away at school and therapy more than he does, thus he gets in the pictures more often. But I still want to take note of these moments. I certainly could wish back a lot of moments from the past. The truth is I could very easily allow myself to get stuck in the wishing and wanting them back. I have found that when the "wishing" hits me, it can serve as a reminder to open my eyes to today. To the very moments I have right now.

There's something so amazing about giving my child a hug while thinking, "this feels so great and is truly a gift and someday I will wish for this moment back", as it happens. Or watching Crew take his wobbly steps and noticing the next day he has gotten faster and sturdier overnight and right then I know that I have been witness to yet another moment of wishing.

The changing colors of the season do make me miss Teagan so much and wish for a part of my simple life back. But it also colors my life in a way that helps me take on a new focus- one that sharpens the present and makes me feel very grateful for what I hold in my hands today.

The wishing.