It’s been a busy few weeks over here.

We’ve battled through another round of sickness (albeit much less intense this time).

We have a Smurflet who’s literally exploring new heights (and messes) daily.

There’s the Mini who’s hitting yet another growth spurt, and looking more like a teenager than a three almost four year old.

A second dog to continue to adjust to our family.

Signs of spring.

And a massive basement renovation to ice the proverbial cake.

More on that last one later.

Suffice it to say, we are busy these days.

And it’s a good busy.

It’s fun and exciting to watch the kids grow and change and learn.

Well mostly.

It’s fantastic to finally feel warm sunshine when we step outside.

And although a little stressful in progress, our new basement will be wonderful and quite useful once complete.

But

There is a lingering sadness that hovers above all the joy and excitement.

Even though I love nothing more than watching my children blossom into their own little personalities, I am sad.

Even though spring finally arriving in New England is what we’ve been waiting for all winter, I am sad.

And even though I am beyond excited to have a finished basement space for our little family, and any guests who require its services,

I am sad.

Maybe sad isn’t the right word.

Maybe it’s better described as “heavy.”

These things feel heavy.

I’m not sure what word is appropriate here.

But the fact of the matter is, I feel it.

I feel time marching on, faster and faster.

I see my growing and changing children and the reality that my sweet mom will never get to see how they’ve grown and who they’re becoming hits like a freight train.

The warm sunshine of Spring solidifies the reality that the seasons are changing. And life is moving on.

Moving on without my mom.

As I begin to look at flooring and paint and all the little details for our new basement I am hit again when I go to text my mom for her opinion only to remember

She is not there to answer me.

And although the knowledge that she is Heaven side and pain free and the happiest she has ever been or ever could possibly be while also in the presence of Jesus is comforting and good

It doesn’t erase the ache in my soul as I watch the calendar get ready to turn yet another page.

It doesn’t take that cloud away as I watch the kids play knowing one day their Nini will be more of a distant memory.

And it doesn’t make it any less hard as I watch and feel the seasons turn. As I see the physical signs of time

Marching.

Moving.

Changing.

I am thankful for the fact that my mom is in her perfect, Heavenly home.

I am thankful knowing that my mom is worshiping the Lord she so faithfully followed, all the way to the end.

I am thankful beyond words that I will see her again someday.

But I am sad for me.

I am sad for those she left behind.

And I am gripped by the reality of how quickly time moves on.

Time doesn’t seem to care about what’s happened.

It only moves forward.

And while I know I will one day be thankful for this too,

Right now it is hard.

I am sad.

Time marches on.