I see you at the coffee shop with your little one, they are begging for a chocolate chip muffin, you say no and they cry. I want to tell you to just let them have it, that its just a muffin. I want to tell you that tomorrow the muffin won’t matter, that in an hour it won’t matter. I want to tell you that I wish I were you.
I hear you talking about your week, telling the other moms that its been a tough one. The kids aren’t listening, and they won’t go to sleep unless you read them 7 books. I want to tell you that the extra 10 minutes those extra 7 books will mean everything to them and that one day it will mean everything to you. I want to tell you that I wish I were you.
I can feel you tensing up in line at the grocery store, your baby is crying and you’re trying your hardest to calm them and nothing is working. I want to tell you that you’re doing so good and this will pass, I promise. I want to tell you that one day you will miss it. I want to tell you that I wish I were you.
I see all of this since I lost Eliza and it’s so heavy, everything is heavier. I see all of these little things that no one notices because we are all just zooming through life. I want to scream “slow down you’ll want this all back one day, LIFE IS SO SHORT” but it’s hard for most people to really grasp unless they’ve experienced a loss. I even wrote a blog about it but it wasn’t until after Eliza was gone that I really understood.
So all of the things we think are important one day won’t be. If I could go back in time I would read Eliza 1000 books, I wouldn’t have cared about a muffin from Starbucks and I would have just taken a breath through a crying spell.
But then I didn’t really know and I didn’t really believe how short life really is. And now I just wish I were you.
Won’t you stay here a minute more
I know you want to walk through the door
But it’s all too fast
Let’s make it last a little while
I pointed to the sky and now you wanna fly
I am your biggest fan
I hope you know I am
But do you think you can somehow
Slow down” ~ Nicole Nordeman