Last night we had what could be the last snowfall of the season. Spring is here promising sunshine and new life, and I’m so excited, yet last night I found myself marvelling at yet another snowfall. It wasn’t unique, yet it seemed important. Something to be savoured, simply because it could be the last of the season.
I stared out my window, taking notice of the gigantic snowflakes as they seemed to fall in slow motion. Pure magic. And the trees! Each branch coated in sparkling white. Just stunning.
Dusk fell and I couldn’t help but think about how familiar this feeling is. Soaking up the last of seasons. Stopping and savouring moments because they just may be the last, or maybe just the last for a very long time.
This is motherhood.
A few years ago my four kids were clamouring to sit on my lap while we watched TV. It sounds sweet, but if I’m honest, I didn’t love it. I often felt smothered. Personal space was a faint memory and all too often my kids desire to sit in the coveted space on my lap incited a brawl. It was exhausting, but where we are now is so different.
One of my kids used to be so snuggly, but now he’s rarely around. Always off with friends or disappearing to the basement. It’s a new phase and I don’t begrudge his newfound independence, it’s a part of growing up, but it’s causing me to pause. To savour the rare and special moments that mark the end of his childhood.
The other night I popped into his room to tuck him in. He was already drifting off so I whispered goodnight while I gently pushed his hair to the side. Just as I was about to walk away he turned over and groggily reached out his arms. I leaned in and he held me. He was half asleep and yet he held me so tight, letting our embrace linger like he was soaking it all in too. I found myself trying to lock in this special moment. To freeze it in my memory. This beautiful embrace so filled with emotion.
Moments like these seem rare nowadays.
The very things that once felt overstimulating and smothering are now the things that I hold most dear. Just like the snow. In the middle of the winter it’s often endless and overwhelming. But then there’s the last snowfall. Some may not even notice it, thinking that only the first snowfall holds magic. But they’re wrong. The last snowfall stops you in your tracks and demands your attention. It beckons you to pause and appreciate all of its beauty.
Motherhood is the same.
It starts off calm and quiet with gentle flurries and then overwhelms you like a storm. And though the beauty is always there, it can be hard to see it. That is until the end of a season. The end of the seemingly constant battle to sit on your lap and smothering you with hugs and kisses. You don’t really realize it much at first, or maybe you do and for a moment you relish in your newfound freedom, but then there’s a shift.
You slowly begin to take notice.
To pay attention to how much has changed. So much. So fast. It’s bittersweet. But just like the spring brings new life, you know that your next season promises growth. And as the last snow falls, signalling the end of another phase of motherhood, you savour each moment recognizing it’s significance. Lingering just awhile longer.
The end of the season.
The beginning of something new.
Isn’t it beautiful.
Sarah Faith 