Sometimes it seems that I can almost hear that sound
though its been many years.
Pages being turned.
Book jackets being removed.
Book upon book upon book.
She was two just turning three when I adopted my youngest daughter
It had been a long
exhausting adoption process
But that only made the joy of having her home even greater.
Cute as a button
with big brown eyes and an upturned nose.
Dimples that flashed as if to say,
“Who do you think you are
trying to tell me what to do?”
She slept in a white crib those first few months.
And beside her crib was a book shelf
lined with children’s books.
When she would awaken in the early morning hours
she’d reach for those books.
Pulling them one by one off the shelf
and sitting crossed legged in her bed reading
or well, at least trying to read them.
Her exuberant spirit was excited to awaken
while I clung to those last few minutes in bed.
Yes, I can still hear the rustle of those pages
knowing that when I walked over to her room
there would be a mountain of books to be placed back
on the shelf again
and a pile of book jackets to sort through.
I never noticed when the last morning was.
It happened without my even realizing it.
The crib was replaced with a toddler bed.
Still close by the book shelf.
I’d still greet her in the morning with a big smile
all the while taking in all those children’s books.
She began to put them back on the shelf
one at a time.
But then it all disappeared as it were.
That phase passed welcoming in another.
Life is like that, isn’t it?
While we are going through one stage it seems like it will last forever
But before we even have a chance to savor it
and say good-bye
All too quickly.
Yes, much too quickly.
We have this moment to hold in our hands
And to touch as it slips through our fingers like sand;
Yesterdays gone and tomorrow may never come
But we have this moment today. (Gaither)
Yes, let’s hold these moments dear
and not wait for tomorrow.
Enjoy today. Embrace the tender moments.
Hold hands. Make that call. Jump in the leaves.
Yesterdays gone and tomorrow may never be.
Yes, my girl is twelve now
quite the reader and lover of books
but that morning sound of those pages turning is only
in the memory of my heart.