Butterflies

You know that feeling you get in the pit of your stomach sometimes, that "butterflies in the stomach" feeling? I've been getting that a lot lately.

Butterflies can happen for many reasons - the most typical one is nerves. I always used to associate it with doing something that scared me, like when I had to stand up in front of the class in my younger years and give a presentation, or go to a job interview, or go talk to someone about something uncomfortable and potentially upsetting. But lately the butterflies have been coming on for other reasons: excitement, fear, anxiety, elation, the realization that life is constantly changing, even when I'm not fully aware of it.

As we grow older we become more aware of change and the finality of certain moments in our lives. When the kids were younger I felt like their childhood would last forever. It's so easy to get mired in the day to day tasks of regular existence that the changes don't seem obvious until you stop to really take a look. When did Jack get so tall and mature looking? When did Ella stop sitting on my lap? How is it that ten years have passed since we moved into our house, yet I feel like we just got here?

I remember years ago we were sitting in the front yard on a summer evening. The kids were running around the front yard catching fireflies, one of those timeless activities kids will probably do forever since they haven't invented an app for that (not yet at least). John and I were sitting on the front step watching them and I distinctly remember thinking to myself "Remember this. This is IT right here. THIS is their childhood. When they are adults they will think back to this moment and they'll remember this yard, this house, catching fireflies on a summer night." I drank in that moment so completely that it still comes up in my mind from time to time as I watch the relentless march of time consume what is left of their childhood and turn them into the people they'll eventually become.

When I think of that moment it makes me want to cry. It makes me happy and sad at the same time.

Yesterday I went for a run. I didn't really feel like going, but crazy me signed up for another marathon and that means running regularly is pretty much required. As I started I didn't expect much. I was in a funk, not feeling myself and not quite sure why.

As the pavement passed beneath my feet something wonderful happened. First it was the breeze: gently, cool, refreshing. It was a pleasant surprise since I'd been expecting the usual sticky air of summer. Then I started running into people: friends from the pool, the neighborhood, school. I never see anyone when I run yet yesterday I saw everyone. They were starting out their day as well, either going for a run, walking the dog, taking out the trash, getting ready to go to work. We were all performing normal, every day tasks but for some reason I felt this amazing sense of togetherness, like we were all doing it together somehow and each smile and wave lifted me just a tiny bit higher. By the time I reached the halfway mark of my run, I felt something soaring inside of me.

This is usually when the dam breaks. Every pent up emotion that was stored inside was suddenly released. My anxiety about the kids getting older and pulling away from me, the continued sadness about my dad who's been gone now almost five years, the stress that work, finances and general obligations bring, the knowledge that a moving truck was pulling up that morning on our street to take our wonderful neighbors and Ella's best friend away - all these things suddenly jumped to the surface and I found myself in this crazy mix of complete elation over how great I was feeling and also sadness about all the changes that have taken and will take place. The butterflies were dancing up a storm.

I'm crying now as I write this.

I haven't written anything down in a while. I started this blog back when my dad was first diagnosed with ALS as a way to let everything out. I stopped doing that and now I'm realizing my mistake. The butterflies are jumping all over the place lately because they haven't been given an outlet.

So here it is. I'm letting them fly around like crazy today. In about an hour we'll be heading to the first swim meet of the season and I'm going to soak in every single second. It's so easy to complain about getting up early on a Saturday, but in a few years I'm going to be wishing I had a reason to get up early. Later today we'll say goodbye to our wonderful neighbors. But I know it's not forever and I know our girls have a bond that will last forever. So it's not really good bye, it's more like "see you soon". When one chapter ends another one is waiting on the next page.

Dance away, little butterflies. I'll make sure to let you out a little more often.