Reconnecting

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“A lifetime is so precious, and so brief, and can be used so beautifully.” – Pema Chodron

I was standing around the elementary school yard the other day watching parents and children at pick-up time. There was the mom standing with her 1st grader, listening to her and occasionally smoothing back the child’s hair behind her ear. There was a dad standing behind his 3rd grader with his hand proudly on his son’s shoulders. And off to my right was the mom embracing her 4th grade son in a big and long hug.

I’ve been thinking about the scene and how we reconnect with our loved ones because yesterday I had to be sedated for a colonoscopy. Even though I had no particular reason to be concerned, I feel a little nervous anytime I or my loved ones have to go under. I remember feeling this acutely anytime I had to take my now departed dog, Biscuit, in for a procedure, especially when he got older. Something scares me about the way you are there one moment, then they turn up the mixture and you’re out.

I’d worked out the details for my procedure yesterday so that my kids had their normal school day routines. But the anxiety amped up the good-bye sweetness, making me remember that I’d once read that good-bye derived from God Be With You. As Miss O jumped out of the car to run for the gate at school, I said, “Good-bye, my miracle girl!”

And she turned, smiled and replied, “Good-bye, my miracle mom.”

I felt that all the way through. It is a miracle that I’m a mom. That modern medicine enabled me through IVF to have babies at age 46 and 50 is astounding. Once I felt that, it was a short walk to feeling how this all is a miracle – to be a human on this earth at this moment with all you other delightful humans, understanding we have the capacity to appreciate this in a way that we might not if we were ants or alligators.

The trip to pick my kids up again at the end of the day, my loop around the little neighborhood lake that I’ve driven countless times, was all that much sweeter. To reconnect, scoop them up in my arms, look at them proudly, tuck their hair behind their ears, and celebrate a little more consciously how lovely it is to be here was pure joy. I wouldn’t go as far as to say I was glad to have a colonoscopy… but hey, anything that reminds me to hug my loved ones a little bit tighter can’t be all bad.

71 thoughts on “Reconnecting”

  1. “Good-bye, my miracle girl!” J’adore! Somehow the combo of that phrase and the images from drop-off — of a dad’s hands on his son’s shoulders, the gentle tuck of the hair behind a child’s ear. Warms me up all over. Thanks for that, Wynne — and glad your procedure is behind you. (Did I just say that? OMG. I think I need to go have more coffee. Less coffee? Either way – love you!) 💓💓💓

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      2. I’m dying over here too! Hilarious! And I too am glad your procedure is, uh, over. 😝 There’s so much to love about your post, Wynne, but what I love the most is that you said the words out loud to Ms. O. Guarantee she will long remember that, and she will FEEL like a miracle, because her mom said she was. ❤️

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      3. Oh, I’m still laughing! You know you have great friends when they can laugh about a colonoscopy with you!

        And I love your comment about Miss O knowing she’s a miracle, Kendra. Makes me feel warm all over – I truly hope she does! ❤ ❤ ❤

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    2. I was coming to say the same thing. The imagery of of the parents being present with their children before parting ways is so sweet! 😍😭 I always make it a point to end interactions with those small gestures of affection, because we never know. Sometimes those small scares, fears, and reminders are just what we need to reassess our priorities. ❤️

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      2. Small scares are just what we need to reassess our priorities – yes! Thank you for putting that into words. Exactly!

        I love that you end your interactions with those gestures. It does make a difference, I believe. I appreciate you, Erin!! ❤

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  2. I once dated a man who greeted his children’s return home by chastising their placement of shoes at the front door. Before I broke up with him, I did a reenactment to demonstrate how soul-crushing that was. Good post, as always, Wynne – you Miracle Mom

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  6. A long time ago, I learned to say “I love you” with a hug on every occasion of my departure from my parents, children, or grandkids. I had the remarkable moment you described with the latter two young men while reading with them on Sunday. If we could freeze-dry such episodes, as we all want to do, I imagine they’d count for less.

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    1. Oh, I can feel the lovely moment as I imagine it must have been on Sunday. Yes, you’re right – it’s probably because we can’t freeze-dry them as you so aptly say, that they mean so much!

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  7. Thank you for sharing!!..“ The love a mother has for her children is legendary, it is said a child is the mother’s heart outside her body.” (Author Unknown).. I think the often we become so busy dealing with matters and life’s challenges and start a routine that we often put on the back burner what is most important to us until something out of the routine suddenly pops up and reminds us….

    Had big plans here and suddenly in 2015 our little dog Miss Daisy passed away, my wife Kathy passed away (cancer) and my Mom passed away (old age) and early 2016 my little dog Bree passed away… I treasure every day that I wake up on the green side of the grass and see the new day dawn.. 🙂

    Hope your life’s path is paved with love and happiness and until we meet again..
    May love and laughter light your days,
    and warm your heart and home.
    May good and faithful friends be yours,
    wherever you may roam.
    May peace and plenty bless your world
    with joy that long endures.
    May all life’s passing seasons
    bring the best to you and yours!
    (Irish Saying)

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    1. Oh, what a year 2015 was for you! I’m so sorry for your losses. You have a remarkable perspective that it makes you appreciate every day you awaken.

      You’ve put it so well – something out of the routine pops up and reminds us. As do wise people like you, Dutch! Thank you!

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  9. It certainly never hurts to have that little jolt of awareness to remind us of how precious the people in our lives are. I admit that I need that reminder at times, although I hope it comes from something other than a colonoscopy 😉

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  11. A lovely post. I feel the same way about general anaesthetic – I’m not a fan.

    I love your good-bye to your girl. That’s something I adored when the kids where small, the over-the-top expressions of love. I wonder why we stop. I think I’ll work on bringing it back.

    To the moon and back.

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  12. Love this post Wynne. Thanks.
    IVF births; miracle children; miracle moms . . . the endless venues of our Creator’s unconditional love knows no limits, even mitigating the anxiety of a pending colonoscopy 😃

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  14. You make me wonder—would I be any different today if my mother had addressed me as “Miracle Girl”? If just once, maybe. If often, definitely! I’m going to squirrel this little gem away in my brain until I have grand babies, and start planting the miracle seed in their tiny heads early and often. Thank you Wynne! Another beautiful post.

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    2. Julia, your comment makes me ask the same question…would I be any different today, had someone (parents?) spoke those words into my life on a regular basis… Words are powerful.

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      1. Words are powerful – you demonstrate that so well with that last sentence, DM! Well, you two have inspired me to remember to say it more often to my little ones. Thank you for that!

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  15. Ally sent me here from her blogroll. I’m glad I stopped by, this is a lovely post. I hope the results from your colonoscopy are good, and glad you had that little reminder. My daughter is 26 and still lives with us, and still likes to cuddle sometimes. I’m not much of a cuddler, but I am thankful that she is, and that we still have these sweet moments.

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  18. Awww, a beautiful post Wynne. “Good-bye, my miracle girl!” Aww, you’re killing me here. So touching. Working out procedure so not to interrupt your kid’s day, but still having that in the back of your mind. Aw, yea, I’ve done that. You gotta give your reader’s a heads-up! At least warn me so I’m not reading at work!!! My coworkers don’t need to see me in a puddle of tears over here. Ha, ha, great post. One of the big takeaways is that no matter how crazy life is, it’s still an amazing thing, there’s still a lot of good. I’m not sure that was your goal with the piece, but it was a big takeaway for me. Thank you.

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      2. A necessary evil for sure. The doctor said colon cancer is #2 for both men and women (after prostrate and breast respectively). Made me feel better about getting it done. I always feel like I’m fine because I haven’t had ANY unexpected weight loss. But good to have the more science driven confirmation. 😁😁😁

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  19. I was so freaked out the one time I had to be put under for surgery, I gave Tara the password to my blog and instructed her to write a farewell post on my behalf should I never wake up.

    Me? Overdramatic?? I have no idea what you’re talking about…

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  20. Oh I hear you on those worries, Wynne, no matter how small. I remember when the hubby had to get his appendix removed. Those 30 minutes in waiting room when he was under were agonizing.

    I’m glad you’re ok. And I also hear ya on the imagery of parents and children reuniting at school pickup. It’s a microcosm of pure innocent joy.

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    1. Pure innocent joy – well put, Ab! Oh I can’t imagine the agony of waiting for your hubby’s appendix removal. I think it might be even worse when you aren’t the patient!

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  21. God, there’s nothing worse than colonoscopy prep. My next one is in two weeks. I’m on a two year schedule and I still acutely remember the last one. I’m sure I’ll be a bundle of nerves before mine. The anesthesia risks couple with the possibility that they may find something unfortunate will make it a pretty yucky occasion. I’m an older parent too, and now I’m interested in your story. Do you have any posts that get into why you started your family late?

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      1. Hmmm, a bit of overlap in our stories. Your comments on ‘about’ pages puts me to shame. Mine reads like a blurb on the back flap of a novel. Really sorry to read about your dad. As a cyclist who *almost* died after being hit by a car, I’m pretty sensitive to cycling death stories.

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      2. Oh, I’m sorry you got hit when cycling. Glad you survived. Thanks for the condolences about my dad.

        Thank you for reading my about page. I don’t see anything about why you came to be a parent later in life on your about page – but that’s an impressive list of publications. Have you written about why you are an older parent somewhere else?

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      3. I don’t think I’ve told that story specifically, but essentially I had an extended adolescence punctuated by endurance sports and a serious alcohol abuse problem. When I finally met my wife and got ready to settle down, I collided with a car on my bike and my recovery was measured in years (in fact still dealing with the fall out today). I had my first child at 40, second at 43. In my Wash DC social group that wasn’t overly late, but then we moved to a small town and my kid’s friends’ parents were all in their 20s and 30s. Been mistaken for the grandparent a few times. For the past three years, I’ve been coaching my son’s mountain bike team and I’m really starting to notice the age difference between me and my ‘peers’. I simply can’t ride as hard as them. Personally, I think I relate with my kids far better than many people way younger than me because I’ve learned the art of patience–something too many younger parents seem to lack.

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      4. I’m so glad you provided that snapshot for me. How interesting about the move to a smaller town.

        And yes – patience is one of the attributes that I know I have much more of now than in my 20’s or 30’s . And perspective. For me, I think I’m a way better parent in the my 50’s than I would have been and that at least keeps me grateful. 🙂

        Thanks for sharing your story, Jeff!

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  26. This is such a heart warming post! How absolutely lovable you have been towards your children that they see you in the light of abundance of kindness and affection. Cheers to you for bringing out miracle:)

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