Lately I've been reminded to make the most of my time with Sunshine. After all, that time is limited. She will only be my little girl for a season.
Someday...
She won't need me to give her a bubble bath, or cut up her food, or wash her little-girl clothes.
She won't beg me to tell her stories about a busy little dog named Fluffy. She'll forget how fun it is to play a simple game of Candy Land or Hide and Seek with me. She won't want me to make up silly songs with her and dance around her bedroom.
She'll outgrow tea parties and picnics on the living room floor with her stuffed animal friends. She'll stop running to me with her arms uplifted when she gets hurt.
She won't need me to read Bible stories to her and hold her hand when I pray with her.
Someday she'll be too big for those things. But not today.
Today...
When she donned her plastic tiara and earrings and exclaimed that a real princess needs to wear a dress, I readily pulled one from her closet and put it on over her shorts and t-shirt.
After she sweetly asked to wear that princess getup to the store, I agreed, even though I knew other moms might think I spoil her.
When I stopped by the espresso shop for my coffee fix, I ordered her an Italian soda with whipped cream and sprinkles on top.
During lunchtime, I giggled with her as we made silly faces.
Before her nap, I savored holding her in my lap and lingered over the story books instead of hurrying through them.
And now, as I hear her waking from that nap, I'm going to end this post quickly and turn off my computer so we can work on dinner. Together.
Someday, my little girl will grow up. But I'm making the most of today.
In the spring, we planted a small vegetable garden in our backyard. Sunshine helped her Daddy work the soil and plant the seeds. She delighted in watching those vegetables sprout and grow.
She could hardly wait until it was time to start harvesting squash, cucumbers, and tomatoes.
Now, when she hears me open the sliding glass door to our backyard (even if it's just to let the dog out), Sunshine will race through the house, calling out that she'll pick the cherry tomatoes.
My little girl simply loves our summer garden.
So I tried to be quiet and discreet on Sunday afternoon when I mentioned to C.R. that our lone cucumber plant is diseased and needs to be pulled from the garden.
Sunshine immediately piped up.
Her: "Is the cucumber plant sick? Is it gonna diiiie?" Me: "Yes, honey. We need to take it out of the garden." Her: "No we don't, Mommy. I'll go sing to the cucumbers to help them get better."
I love my sweet, funny little girl.
I only captured this one song, but Sunshine must have sung a dozen songs to that pitiful plant. I overheard a couple renditions of Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star, and Jesus Loves Me.
Who knows what the neighbors heard? I'm smiling just thinking about it.
I love the way kids think. If only we could sing all our problems away...
No, it's not our wedding anniversary. We celebrated our tenth in March. (I savor each one of the ten sweet years I've been married to my best friend and high school sweetheart. I hope we get to celebrate our 50th together.)
This is a different kind of anniversary. C.R. reminded me that today his cancer has been in remission for exactly seven years.
Praise God.
It is bittersweet to remember that day (and many other days during that time). I've never written about it, so please bear with me if I get emotional and my post is long.
Seven years ago, C.R. received his last treatment for stage III colon cancer. Prior to that, his doctors had removed half of his colon and he'd endured six months of chemotherapy.
On that day, he little resembled the man I'd married just three years earlier. After cancer treatment, he was thin, pale, and weary. His body and spirit had taken a beating. It took more than a year for him to gain back the weight and strength he'd lost during that time.
Just days before C.R. finished his treatment, a friend of ours who had the same type of cancer had died. The man was in his thirties, a college professor, and he left behind a wife and two young children. Even though we'd met several times with this wonderful couple to encourage and pray for one another, C.R. and I could not bring ourselves to go to the funeral. I regret that now.
Seven years ago, I knew I should feel relieved that C.R. had finished chemotherapy. Honestly, I was relieved. At times, it had been a difficult road for both of us. I hated watching helplessly as C.R. suffered and I was unable to help him in the ways that mattered most.
I was relieved, but mostly I was scared.
Sometimes I still am.
I was terrified that the cancer would return. Because I knew that, with colon cancer, a return of the cancer is a death sentence.
When C.R. was going through treatment, it felt like we were fighting the cancer. After he finished, all we could do was passively wait to see if it would return.
Tests and waiting. Waiting and tests.
For years.
What I didn't know then is that his remission would pass the critical two-year mark, and then the five-year mark. And now we've passed year seven.
The most amazing thing is that, when I look back on those dark days, I see God's love, compassion, and grace in ways I've not seen before or even since. I learned a great deal about His character during that time. We both did.
Tears are streaming down my face as I remember the outpouring of love we experienced from friends and family.
I'll always remember the sweet caring of our friends at a time when we lived on one coast and our families on the other. These friends stayed with me at the hospital, brought us meals, and met with us faithfully to pray for us.
Our families simply loved on us. I can't even express how much it meant when family members made the long and expensive trip to be with us during the hard times. I know it must have been a sacrifice.
As soon as C.R. had surgery, my parents and C.R.'s parents and sister traveled across the country as quickly as they could. (What a sweet reunion I had with them at the airport that night.) Later, my oldest brother and then C.R.'s brother also came to see us.
When we needed a break from C.R.'s treatments, we even took a special trip to Florida to visit my other brother and his wife. They paid for the entire trip.
Extended family members called and sent encouraging letters.
It meant the world to us.
Now, we have what we never expected to have then. C.R. has his life. I have my husband. And together we have a beautiful daughter.
Although I would never have chosen that road for us, in many ways it was a path of blessing that changed our lives.
I've been feeling sorry for myself today and it's all because of my 25th birthday, which is coming up next week.
I have some unpleasant news to share about the happiest day of my year.
Before I explain, though, I need to come clean. (Otherwise my pants might catch fire and that truly would be unpleasant.) A few years back, when I was 29, I decided to shift my age into reverse. Instead of turning 30, I turned 28. The next year I turned 27, and so on.
On this birthday, I'll actually be turning 33. Shhh...don't tell anyone. I'd hate for my family to find out. I'm hoping to keep them fooled at least until I turn 18.
Now back to my birthday woes.
A couple of days ago my mother-in-law told me that she and my father-in-law will be out of town on vacation next week.
"I'll be sure to send your card, though." She promised me.
No problem. Birthdays are BIG in my family, but not as much with C.R.'s family. I'm an adult. I don't expect my in-laws to schedule their lives around my birthday. How silly.
My family, on the other hand, is a different story. Now we get serious.
My mom usually makes a special meal for the birthday girl (or boy) and then my entire family gets together to give gifts and enjoy cake and ice cream. This is what we do for every family member's birthday. It's a tradition that I love. (I suspect, however, that my mom is hoping her kids will outgrow these special birthday meals by the time they hit their 40s. Hmmph...wonder what her problem is?)
I was bummed, then, this morning when my mom called to tell me that my family won't be able to do the usual celebration. She and my dad need to attend an important meeting on the evening of my birthday.
No special meal. No gifts or cake and ice cream with my family.
Sigh.
I consoled myself, however, that C.R. could still take me out for a nice birthday dinner. Ahh, I started to feel better.
That is, until C.R. came home and told me that he has to go out of town next week for work and will be gone on my birthday.
Excuse me?
Um, is anyone going to be around for my stinkin' 25th birthday?
Grrrr.
Enough complaining.
I'm grateful for another year that the Lord has given me. I'm glad that my in-laws can relax and enjoy a vacation. I'm thankful for the meeting my parents are attending because it is an important one. And I'm thankful for C.R.'s job and the income it provides so that I can stay home with Sunshine.
Seriously, I'm okay with postponing the celebration and toning it down a little this year.
Besides, there's always time to plan the party for my 24th birthday.
Lately I've been reminded to make the most of my time with Sunshine. After all, that time is limited. She will only be my little girl for a season.
