Everything Ends

Almost 8 years ago, I became a mother and kind of lost my shit. That is when I rediscovered my love of writing. Some people use knitting or cooking or Cross Fit to keep their shit intact. I write.

Eight years feels like nothing. Eight years feels like a million.

When was the last time my mom and I went shopping and she didn’t look so tired by the time we were done? When was the last time my youngest let me rock her to sleep? When did my 4-year-old start pronouncing “birthday” correctly?


When did I begin to get wrinkles around my eyes?

My husband and I have been married for over a decade. He has wrinkles around his eyes, too. I wonder when I first saw them.

Ten years feels like nothing. Ten years feels like a million.

I’ve written before about being in a season that seems never-endingly, suffocatingly difficult. But all things come to an end, right? They must, because my children are changing right in front of me, so quickly that I can’t pinpoint when it happened.

Everything ends.

That is the saddest, and yet most hopeful, phrase a mother can hear.

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3 thoughts on “Everything Ends

  1. Dear lord, so true!!!!! Funny enough my youngest was asking me this morning if I would be around when she’s 60, I assured her I would be, then she asked if I would be when she’s 80 and I said that I hoped so. After dropping her off it was all I could think about, so sad, so true, and dear lord where did the time go?

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Weird. My wife and I just celebrated our 10th anniversary last summer. We have an 8 year old. We have a 4 year old. We lost our shit, too. Anyway, it’s interesting that no matter frustrating the kids can be, no matter how much joy they happen to bring one moment at a time, the time keeps on ticking. We never know when the “last” is going to be.


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