Time In A Bottle

If you are anywhere near my age, you will remember Jim Croce's music. This past weekend his hauntingly beautiful song, Time In A Bottle,  streamed continuously in my mind as background music for my days together with family. A couple of days with all my girls. Both daughters. All the granddaughters. (The husbands were all busy elsewhere.) We played. We laughed. We shared meals. We made plans. These days are rare.

While we chatted upstairs, the little girls created their magical kingdom downstairs in the playroom. We could hear bits and pieces of stage direction from Little Sister. (She reminds me so much of her mother. Mommy loved putting on shows when she was little.) Baby Girl raced upstairs. In minutes she headed back down with her mermaid costume and a dress for "when the mermaid is human." 

There were books to read and crafts to work on. Piano to practice. Pictures to draw. Stories to tell. I know these days are precious. And they are limited. Big Sister breezed through, slowing down only long enough to say hello before she was out the door again. College students have more pressing matters to deal with. That's the natural course of events. 

Little Sister has just turned nine. I can tell she is growing up. Thankfully she and her little sister still rush to open the door, shrieking with excitement when I arrive. And I still get massive hugs when it is time for us to part, but not always the tears that marked the end of a visit. That is a good thing. (Grandmother confession: it did make me feel special to be loved and missed so much.) I've always read bedtime stories to them. This trip, when we crawled under the covers, they read to me. I am happy we are making this journey through time together. 

I want to burn these moments in my brain. I love hearing the little girl voices soon after I wake up. "Good morning, Mimi." I love hearing them sing Jolene at the top of their lungs while they worked a puzzle. I love watching them turn cartwheels in the den, showing me their new skills. I love it all.

And I am thrilled to think that as these little ones grow up, I'll get to do it again when the new baby girl arrives in the winter. I am blessed beyond measure.