I Can’t Believe We’re Finally Here

“Are we there yet?”

How many mile markers pass in our children’s lives, and how many times do we tap the brake to hold back the clock for even a few more moments? Invariably, one of them utters those words.

How is it that a child can smell hesitation? When a mother seems to falter—even if she only means to slow down enough to round the next bend—a little girl in the back seat startles herself awake and imagines she’s all grown up and ready to be there.

“It’s not about the destination,” I tell her. “Remember, life’s all about the journey.”

“I know, I know,” she says, with the impatience of a toddler. “But are we there yet?”

“Go back to sleep,” I say. “You’ll be there soon enough. Sweet dreams.”

And I drive on into the night, seeing only as far ahead as the scantily lit road allows, and no farther. How will I ever be able to take her where she wants to go? Can I see into her heart and know the plans God has planted there? Do I love the things she loves enough to guide her on the path He’s laying out before her?

She takes another nap, curled into cherubic roundness, hugging her bunny blanket more for its comfort than its warmth. She trusts me to stay awake on her behalf, to protect her from danger, and to move her closer to the place she’s dreaming of. A place she’s never seen, except when her languishing lashes flutter across her cheeks, but a place she believes in just the same.

Will I be counted worthy of her trust?

I stay the course. I don’t even blink for what feels in one way like years on end, but can’t possibly be. Somehow, though, I realize that when I peek over my shoulder to gaze at her in only a few moments, she’ll be older, not such a little girl anymore. I am scared to look.

“Are we there yet?”

I glance in the mirror at the sound of a young woman’s voice and see her stretch from her slumber, taller and strong. “Almost,” I say. “I hope I don’t miss the turn.”

“I can’t wait,” she says.

And she sits up straight and watches the road with me, as if she knows that I’m faltering here at the end. As if she knows that I’m weakening, and need her reassurance to continue following the map as it’s been written since before the foundation of time.

Everything looks so unfamiliar, though I swear I’ve been here once before, once long ago, when I was, in fact, a young woman her very age.

I’ve grown so sleepy that I swerve from my lane, lose my place in the grand scheme of our travels. She taps me on the shoulder.

“It’s my turn now, Mom. Why don’t you let me drive for a while?”

She takes the wheel and I fall asleep, but only for a moment. I dream of her childhood, and then of her grown-up beauty, of her wedding to a wonderful man. I dream of them choosing a path and following where He leads.

And then suddenly I’m awake once more, tears making riverbeds of my cheeks. And I hear her voice again, from far away, where I can’t look over my shoulder as I used to and smile down at her darling face.

“Mom, it’s me. We made it, we’re safe…”

“Oh, honey,” I say. “I’m so glad.” And then I laugh. “See, that didn’t take so long, did it?”

“I love you,” she says, and then I hear pure wonder in her words. “And I can’t believe we’re finally here.”

(Update: Here’s Carrie’s new blog from her new city.)

Posted by Katy on 07/17/09 at 05:45 PM

Fallible Comments...

Momsy, you've made me teary. Very sweet post. Love you and miss you!!!
Posted by Carrie Dahmer on 07/17/09 at 07:56 PM
Oh, Katy! What a beautiful picture of our journey as parents. You made my cry as I think about my own little girl, who I'll drop at college in less than a month. She'll be eight hours away in a different state. I probably won't see her until Thanksgiving.
Posted by D'Ann Mateer on 07/18/09 at 08:26 AM
Katy this is gorgeous. I'm going to pass it along to my mom. Thanks for writing and sharing!
Posted by Edie on 07/18/09 at 11:33 AM
Beautifully written. Took a quick break at work to read your blog! Now I have tears in my eyes as I go to my next meeting! Seriously, though, this is a very touching post!
Posted by Lynn Raymond on 07/20/09 at 09:19 AM
...sigh...

What a wonderful story, and so very true. Driving with your children down that scantily lit road can be terrifying at times. And also one great ride.
Posted by Billy Coffey on 07/20/09 at 01:31 PM
Oh, Katy! How beautiful. A little too close to home as we get ready to send our "baby" off to college in less than a month. : (
Posted by Deborah Raney on 07/20/09 at 03:16 PM
I only got halfway through reading this before I started crying. It's hard to even type this comment through my tears. Carrie is only lucky daughter, and I am one lucky little sister! Love you!!!!
Posted by Bridget on 07/21/09 at 11:45 AM
I actually spent time reading your post. A very touching story of being a mom. I wonder what my mom says now I'm grown up.
Posted by Dominic on 08/03/09 at 04:34 AM
I can only echo the beautful comments left by your other readers. I, too, felt the tears rising up in me as I read about the "journey." I took the last of five daughters to college this week. Holding all of them with open hands, knowing and praying that that they will do fine "holding the wheel" of their own cars.

Thank you so much for this beautifully written post.
Gail
Posted by Gail Hyatt on 08/13/09 at 06:52 AM
You've written a very touching story. I'm not yet a parent but as a child, I wonder how my parent will feel whenever they are in your situation.
Posted by Gabriel on 08/31/09 at 07:06 AM
It was really touching. i love to read all your posts. I hope to see more such articles.
Posted by Santa Monica Hair Salon on 03/15/10 at 12:50 AM
The Meadows Aromatherapy brand is trusted worldwide and we pride ourselves on not only the exceptional quality, vibration and freshness of our 100% pure essential oils.
Posted by Meadows Aromatherapy on 09/06/10 at 05:07 AM

Page 1 of 1 pages

Commenting is not available in this weblog entry.

Next entry: If Doug Had Seen This Movie Of Me As A Baby, He Might Not Have Ended Up With Chatty Katy

Previous entry: Why I'm Always Glad To Have Written

<< Back to main


		more fallible attitude »

Personal blog of christian writer & fallible mom Katy McKenna Raymond in Kansas City, Missouri Katy is represented by Greg Johnson at WordServe Literary Read more Katy at LateBoomer.net Follow Katy on Twitter Follow Katy on Facebook 123 Recent Posts Try Becoming Brenda Starr Off Beat Scattered That’s It So I’ve Finally Signed With An Agent. Now What? The Spoon Sciatica Sweetheart A Woman’s Train of Thought Has No Caboose However much we own, we are all still living on borrowed time After all, when restaurants shrink portions, they don’t shrink prices. As with everything in life, balance is key. Slow down, you move too fast… Yeah, I know. I have issues. Search Advanced Search Syndicate Login E me at katy @ ngenius.com	I Can’t Believe We’re Finally Here “Are we there yet?” How many mile markers pass in our children’s lives, and how many times do we tap the brake to hold back the clock for even a few more moments? Invariably, one of them utters those words. How is it that a child can smell hesitation? When a mother seems to falter—even if she only means to slow down enough to round the next bend—a little girl in the back seat startles herself awake and imagines she’s all grown up and ready to be there. “It’s not about the destination,” I tell her. “Remember, life’s all about the journey.” “I know, I know,” she says, with the impatience of a toddler. “But are we there yet?” “Go back to sleep,” I say. “You’ll be there soon enough. Sweet dreams.” And I drive on into the night, seeing only as far ahead as the scantily lit road allows, and no farther. How will I ever be able to take her where she wants to go? Can I see into her heart and know the plans God has planted there? Do I love the things she loves enough to guide her on the path He’s laying out before her? She takes another nap, curled into cherubic roundness, hugging her bunny blanket more for its comfort than its warmth. She trusts me to stay awake on her behalf, to protect her from danger, and to move her closer to the place she’s dreaming of. A place she’s never seen, except when her languishing lashes flutter across her cheeks, but a place she believes in just the same. Will I be counted worthy of her trust? I stay the course. I don’t even blink for what feels in one way like years on end, but can’t possibly be. Somehow, though, I realize that when I peek over my shoulder to gaze at her in only a few moments, she’ll be older, not such a little girl anymore. I am scared to look. “Are we there yet?” I glance in the mirror at the sound of a young woman’s voice and see her stretch from her slumber, taller and strong. “Almost,” I say. “I hope I don’t miss the turn.” “I can’t wait,” she says. And she sits up straight and watches the road with me, as if she knows that I’m faltering here at the end. As if she knows that I’m weakening, and need her reassurance to continue following the map as it’s been written since before the foundation of time. Everything looks so unfamiliar, though I swear I’ve been here once before, once long ago, when I was, in fact, a young woman her very age. I’ve grown so sleepy that I swerve from my lane, lose my place in the grand scheme of our travels. She taps me on the shoulder. “It’s my turn now, Mom. Why don’t you let me drive for a while?” She takes the wheel and I fall asleep, but only for a moment. I dream of her childhood, and then of her grown-up beauty, of her wedding to a wonderful man. I dream of them choosing a path and following where He leads. And then suddenly I’m awake once more, tears making riverbeds of my cheeks. And I hear her voice again, from far away, where I can’t look over my shoulder as I used to and smile down at her darling face. “Mom, it’s me. We made it, we’re safe…” “Oh, honey,” I say. “I’m so glad.” And then I laugh. “See, that didn’t take so long, did it?” “I love you,” she says, and then I hear pure wonder in her words. “And I can’t believe we’re finally here.” (Update: Here’s Carrie’s new blog from her new city.) Posted by Katy on 07/17/09 at 05:45 PM Fallible Comments... Momsy, you've made me teary. Very sweet post. Love you and miss you!!! Posted by Carrie Dahmer on 07/17/09 at 07:56 PM Oh, Katy! What a beautiful picture of our journey as parents. You made my cry as I think about my own little girl, who I'll drop at college in less than a month. She'll be eight hours away in a different state. I probably won't see her until Thanksgiving. Posted by D'Ann Mateer on 07/18/09 at 08:26 AM Katy this is gorgeous. I'm going to pass it along to my mom. Thanks for writing and sharing! Posted by Edie on 07/18/09 at 11:33 AM Beautifully written. Took a quick break at work to read your blog! Now I have tears in my eyes as I go to my next meeting! Seriously, though, this is a very touching post! Posted by Lynn Raymond on 07/20/09 at 09:19 AM ...sigh... What a wonderful story, and so very true. Driving with your children down that scantily lit road can be terrifying at times. And also one great ride. Posted by Billy Coffey on 07/20/09 at 01:31 PM Oh, Katy! How beautiful. A little too close to home as we get ready to send our "baby" off to college in less than a month. : ( Posted by Deborah Raney on 07/20/09 at 03:16 PM I only got halfway through reading this before I started crying. It's hard to even type this comment through my tears. Carrie is only lucky daughter, and I am one lucky little sister! Love you!!!! Posted by Bridget on 07/21/09 at 11:45 AM I actually spent time reading your post. A very touching story of being a mom. I wonder what my mom says now I'm grown up. Posted by Dominic on 08/03/09 at 04:34 AM I can only echo the beautful comments left by your other readers. I, too, felt the tears rising up in me as I read about the "journey." I took the last of five daughters to college this week. Holding all of them with open hands, knowing and praying that that they will do fine "holding the wheel" of their own cars. Thank you so much for this beautifully written post. Gail Posted by Gail Hyatt on 08/13/09 at 06:52 AM You've written a very touching story. I'm not yet a parent but as a child, I wonder how my parent will feel whenever they are in your situation. Posted by Gabriel on 08/31/09 at 07:06 AM It was really touching. i love to read all your posts. I hope to see more such articles. Posted by Santa Monica Hair Salon on 03/15/10 at 12:50 AM The Meadows Aromatherapy brand is trusted worldwide and we pride ourselves on not only the exceptional quality, vibration and freshness of our 100% pure essential oils. Posted by Meadows Aromatherapy on 09/06/10 at 05:07 AM Page 1 of 1 pages Commenting is not available in this weblog entry. Next entry: If Doug Had Seen This Movie Of Me As A Baby, He Might Not Have Ended Up With Chatty Katy Previous entry: Why I'm Always Glad To Have Written << Back to main


copyright 2011, ngenius media inc.

Personal blog of christianwriter & fallible momKaty McKenna Raymondin Kansas City, Missouri

Recent Posts

Search

Syndicate

I Can’t Believe We’re Finally Here

Personal blog of christian
writer & fallible mom
Katy McKenna Raymond
in Kansas City, Missouri