I'm not sure why the oldest's birthdays always seems to cut me in a different way than the other's.
Maybe because that number is always new; I've never had a nine year old before.
Maybe because that number marches up, up, up, and the teen years seem to be waiting for us, just over the horizon.
Maybe because that number is how long I've been a mom. Nine years of motherhood.
Nine years. Six pregnancies. Four little (or not so little- I just bought my oldest a pair of size 12 jeans!) people- bursting with life. Two parents, in awe of them as they unfold around us. One mom, tired and exhilarated by this rollercoaster of motherhood.
Yesterday as I prepared for Drew's party, I thought of this song from the movie, Les Mis. It's a song that was written specifically for the movie as the director tried to capture Val Jean's emotions at the suddenness and sweetness of being a father. You have to read the chapter in the book to really do it justice, but this song begins to take you there quite nicely.
I cried as I listened. There's a lot that doesn't apply to me; I wasn't all alone until Drew. I don't have a dark past that I won't be able to explain. But there is a sense that it happened- suddenly. That, nine years ago, I gazed at my newborn and suddenly the world was both more hopeful and more terrifying because of him.
There you have it.
Hope your weekend has some space for reflection, a small window of time to youtube a song and let it sing to something in you.
Catch you later.