Happy Mother’s Day! This is a guest post written by my lovely friend Tracey called “Slipping Through My Fingers”. I’m sure most of you will find this poem so beautiful. If you would like to know more about Tracey, please scroll down to the bottom of this post where you can find her details, under “About the Author“.
“Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what’s in her mind
Each time I think I’m close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time”
Slipping Through My Fingers, ABBA
We lay there side by side. Snuggled under the heavy winter duvet for warmth. The air around us cold, the chill from the outside seeping in taking advantage of the absence of any heat. But we didn’t care. There was a giggle, then a nudge. A sneaky glance, then some more giggles.
Her height belies her age. Almost as tall as mum, yet her innocence still shines on through her eyes as we continue on with the silliness. Me, trying desperately not to fall asleep whilst she proceeds to chat at a million miles an hour. There we stayed.
A time out after lunch, and a rest from entertaining, we soaked in the quiet as the balance was restored and we reclaimed the space as ours. And there we stayed, just lying there in bed. Like best friends on a sleepover, excitedly trying not to fall asleep but our easy position with next to each other spoke of something closer.
24 years my junior, in her eyes I can still see my baby. A tiny little bundle of pink-swaddled in a white blanket and nestled in the crook of my arm as if she had always been there. But now, my eyes spy a young girl on the cusp of a new time for her, ready to embark on a new chapter of her life. One filled with uncertainty and new experiences, but for now, we cherish the fun, the childish games we play while we still have the time.
No phones, no tv, no laptop. Just talking, communication and being us, no distractions. Before it’s too late and it’s all gone. Before the next stage takes her away and she is 24 now herself in the blink of an eye. For time has already moved so fast, the baby days now a blur, the past long ago, confined to remember when….. tales and backed up with pictures should the memories fade with time.
As I look at her I try to recall where the years have gone. What defining moments got us here and can I even pinpoint the exact time she grew up without me realising it. Because she did. Some time ago although I don’t remember exactly when. It didn’t come as a bolt out of the blue I’m sure but little pieces that built her up over time to what she is now.
Her once dark blonde, now brown hair falling gently in soft loose waves around her face, still fuzzy from bed. Bright blue eyes the mirror image of my own looking back at me from above the soft pink flush of her cheeks. Her features still young, not yet defined by age and experiences and skin still smooth.
I have to wonder, how much more moments like this do we have together. Before time does it’s thing once more. Is this the last time, will she soon be too old to keep her mum company on a cold Sunday afternoon in bed? So I soaked it all in. The memories, the smiles, the laughter at absolutely nothing yet everything all at once. I lock it away to a place I can keep it forever.
Before I knew it, the moment had passed and off she has gone. Her interest waning and the moment lost. Business as usual, back to life as we know it and with that she is off to continue with her day. Doing things she does without any need for me. And I watch her go. Because even though those years are past us, the best is still all to come.
Thanks for stopping by,
Love you all ❤️
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