I knew some day the picture would change. I would no longer be the child - loved, protected and cared for. I didn't really understand the depth of such love - not until I held my own children in my arms. Then I knew.
I knew the picture couldn't stay the same. It would grow and change as the years rolled by more quickly than I could ever have imagined.
I knew, because everyone said so, some day the roles would slowly shift. But I didn't know. A part of me thought this season of life, with its empty nest and unscheduled days would be one of rest and ease.
The little girl couldn't imagine the Dad who had effortlessly swung her up on his strong shoulders falling and needing rescuing of his own. She couldn't know the sadness of watching the slow slide downward, the heart-pounding calls late at night, a father weeping at the kitchen table, holding a distraught mother in her arms, the loss of so much that was once taken for granted.
There are blessings to be sure. The family gatherings, the stories great-grandchildren never mind hearing over and over again, the beautiful legacy of faith they continue to live out. I now know I must cherish the moments.
Joining Jennifer today: