The author reflects on reaching middle age and realizing how quickly time has passed. As a parent, the author misses their children's early years and the daily activities of raising them. Though the children are now grown, the author worries they did not parent well enough and hopes their children live happy, healthy lives in an increasingly uncertain world. The author encourages cherishing time with loved ones as life moves quickly.

1. No one tells you that at 35 or 40 you are middle aged. But most people live on average 70
to 80 years. So imagine my surprise when I, at 52 realize that I’m a decade beyond middle age. It
seems surreal that in less than a decade I will be 60. Now anyone under the age of 35 thinks 60 is
a bonafide blue haired Bengay wearing old man or lady sporting Depends under their double knit
pant suit. I for one never thought it would come on so quickly. How appropriate. Our elders
always told us to cherish every moment, it flies by. We always scoffed at their foolishness, just
nodding our heads and agreeing while thinking will this day EVER end?
In all the years, while raising our kids, rushing to and from the sporting events, work,
doctors, dentists, teacher meetings, school shopping, vacation planning, blah, blah, blah. Who
knew that at the end of it all, we’d just be sitting here, 52 years into our existence and sure as hell
it flew by. Those old timers were on to something. Too late to realize that all of those agonizing
nights of homework help, boy and girl drama, dragging grouchy teenagers out of bed for school,
bad grades, good grades, groundings, sleep overs, blah, blah, blah…would be something we’d
wished we’d cherished just a little more.
My kids are both out on their own. I worry that I didn’t do such a great job. Wonder if I
got any of it right. I wonder if they realize how stupid I was when I gave birth to them? Scared
and not sure that I could be a good parent, what did I know? I wonder if they realize that even
though I made mistakes I really did try to do the best I could. I loved them as hard and as fully as
I knew how.
I miss having my kids as babies. They were the cutest kids in the universe. Everyone said
so. They were beautiful and would have made the perfect model for the perfect baby or toddler. I
did that. Well I had help. But I did it. Would I ever accomplish anything so worthy again? I miss
reading on the porch swing and making up stories that continue from day to day. I miss looking
out the window of our house and seeing that big yellow bus letting my precious little ones out

2. and their chatter as they make their way through the hay field to the house, dogs barking and
circling happily around them all the way. Their excitement as they plop down to their afternoon
snack and tell me about their day. I miss bedtime, kissing my clean smelling babies and tucking
them into bed after reading them a bedtime story.
I miss watching my kids play baseball, softball, soccer and basketball. Through the
years, always thinking my kid is the best, among the best. Gifted really. May be a professional
athlete one day. Bursting with pride at that goal, that basket, or homerun. Cheering with the
enthusiasm of a starving man at an all you can eat buffet. Nobody could top my kid. They were
MVP every team, every year and everyone knew it. We all think that of our children. The hidden
genius, the gifted artist or outstanding athlete. No matter where they played on the field or how
many points they scored, they were the best out there.
I am learning to enjoy this time of my life but it hasn’t been easy. There are still bumps in
the road. I don’t think I’m that old until I walk by a mirror and wonder who the old lady is
staring back at me. I think back to when my mom was the age that I am now and how old I was
at that time. She was 52 and I was 28. I thought she was SO old. Now I’m 52 and my daughter is
21. No doubt she thinks I’m ancient.
I don’t know what is in store down the road. None of us knows how long we’ll be here. I
know that I miss the days gone by. I’m all for loving this life as it is now, with grown children
and grandbabies to enjoy. But it’s easy to get melancholy and wish for simpler times. The world
is a scary place now. I wouldn’t have children in this world now if I were young again. The
uncertainty is too great. The dangers too real. Our country has become a cesspool of ungrateful
non-believers, eager to push their agenda on everyone else. I never thought I’d see the day that it
became a reality that Christians are killed for their faith. Right out in the streets in front of
anyone who cares to watch. How long can this continue? How much worse can it get?

3. I hope my children and grandchildren live long, healthy and happy lives. I hope that this
world doesn’t get the best of them. I hope their faith is strong enough to save them in the end.
I’ve always been over protective of my kids. Especially my daughter. I do nearly everything for
her. Because I love her. So much. I want her life to be magical and fun and full of joy. I want to
give her the moon and the stars and watch them shine in her eyes. I worry that she will be ok
when I am gone. I want her to be strong, if not for herself, then for me. No, for her daughter. She
has to be strong for her daughter. She has to hold that moon and stars and give them to her baby
when she is ready. I want her to laugh hard and love fully and enjoy all that this life has to offer.
I want her to cherish these days with her daughter because as the old folks say, “time flies”. Even
as she rolls her eyes and wonders will this day EVER end? I hope she walks a little slower,
breathes a little deeper and holds her baby’s hand a little tighter. Put down the cell phone and
listen to the crickets, draw on the sidewalk and make daisy chain necklaces. Because one day
you’ll walk by a mirror and wonder who the old woman is that’s looking back.