—Seth Lewis
The Monday after Easter Sunday is a bank holiday in Ireland, so I slept in. That may not seem very remarkable to you, but I remember when it was impossible. I remember when our children were small, and always woke up at the crack of dawn with bright eyes and boundless energy, ready for me to be the bad guy they could fight or the jungle gym they could climb or the narrator for their books. I remember before those mornings, back to the seemingly endless nights when they fit easily in my arms and I walked countless miles back and forth in their little bedrooms and put them down so gently and carefully and their eyes popped open and we started walking all over again. It didn’t seem possible at the time, but those endless nights ended. Sleeping through the whole night is normal for me now, and when a bank holiday comes, I can stay in bed even longer if I want to. When did that happen?
Every day seems so similar as it passes that it’s hard to notice how things are changing. It’s only when I look back over the years that I see how different my life has become. These arms, my arms, that used to rock babies now work side by side in the garden with sons who will soon be taller than I am. These shoulders, my shoulders, that used to lift a little girl now twirl a young woman who is as tall as they are. When did that happen?
I love the stage we’re in now. Two teens and a preteen in the house might be some people’s idea of a nightmare, but I thank God every day that I’m living a dream. I love watching our children grow and learn and develop more and more and mature day by day. I love being able to have serious grown-up conversations with them now about serious grown-up topics, and being able to laugh together over years of accumulated family jokes. I love how they read so much faster than I do and how I’m constantly learning new things from them that I never knew before. I love how much I have to struggle to compete with them at games and sports.
When I got out of bed on Monday, I knew what to expect. I know what stage of life I’m in, and I know what a normal day looks like. But as I walked down the stairs it struck me how different my current normal is from what it used to be. The change didn’t happen suddenly, but it happened anyway, and it’s happening still. Every day my normal life changes, just a little. Every day my definition of normal moves imperceptibly forward towards new and different realities that I’ve never experienced before. What will it be like when the children go to university, move away, or get married? Someday, it will be normal. Someday, I’ll walk down the stairs and think back on the stage I’m in now, just like the stages that have gone before. Then I’ll carry on into a normal day that looks very different from my life today, but when it comes, it will be normal, just the same.
I can lie in on bank holidays now. That’s normal, and I’m thankful for it. I’m thankful for all the early mornings and sleepless nights, too. I’m thankful for the days ahead, with whatever new kinds of normal they bring. As I head downstairs into another day, I remember that every stage of life is a limited and precious gift. That’s normal, I’m thankful for it.