“Now is the winter of our discontent…” (with huge apologies to Shakespeare) is a phrase that has been buzzing around in my head for the past few months. Usually winter signals the figurative end of one thing- usually a death, a completion of a season in someone’s life.
With my current season of discontent due to my depression, it is very hard to keep up with my sons’ season of spring. My boys are in the springtime of their lives, constantly growing, on-the-go with energy levels that I wish I could bottle up and save forever. Because I’m stuck in winter, I’m missing the beauty of my sons’ spring, and it makes me feel even worse. Like the crocuses in the picture above, the beauty of the flowers (my sons) is being held back by my constant white, frozen mood.
There have been so many times recently where I wish that I could turn back time, go back a few seasons in my own life, and try to recapture what I lost. Since I’ve become a mom, the seasons have been flying by at an alarming rate for me, and I look back to see all the things that I wish I had savored a bit longer. My boys are in the spring, soon it will be summer for them, and how much more will I miss because I’m in my winter?
Moms (all parents, actually), please don’t wish away the seasons. Don’t look at the calendar and think “Gee, if only my baby could walk…”, or “When am I ever going to sleep through the night?” Those days will come upon you so quickly, and then you’ll be wishing you had one more day to cuddle your child like you did when he/she was a baby.
Also, if this picture above is any hope that I will soon have a spring again, I hope to bloom like those beautiful crocuses, and join my sons in their springtime. I want the snows of this depression to melt away and reveal the beauty of what life can hold for me and my family.
Photo graciously supplied by Beta Karel through a Creative Commons license, some rights reserved.