Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12
|Monica Fountain, Class of 1986
Today, I ordered my daughter’s yearbook photo in her cap and gown. Weeks before, my daughter took her senior pictures. The night before we were searching for a white blouse for her to wear as one of her outfits. Classic and timeless I figure. She will look back on these pictures 20 years from now so no need for something too far out there or faddish. Just plain, simple, classic will do. This is the picture that will be in the yearbook that she will look back and laugh at years from now. Laugh at how young and innocent she was. At her hairstyle, perhaps.
A milestone is being marked as we march toward graduation and also her matriculation to the next level. While there is joy, pride and excitement, there is also a tinge of sadness as I think of the inevitable separation. Once I carried her inside me. Now she is preparing to leave us. I know it’s not like she is leaving, leaving forever. It’s not like we will never see her again or that I won’t be texting, facebooking, skyping and calling in this technological age of social media. But while since the day she was born I have been preparing her for this day, I know I will miss her when she is in college and not asleep in her room under our roof. That she is growing up.
But this is what we prepare our children for—to leave us. To go and fly and live their lives. To prepare them to pursue the purpose that God has for them.
I look at my senior picture and realize how quickly time flies. My classmates and I are in our mid-40s now. Many of us are grandparents. Some of us still have school-age children. We’re headed toward the big 5-0. It amazes me when I see babies that I babysat getting married and raising their own children and I deal with the reality of time and mortality.
It reminds me to live each day to the fullest. To not let fear paralyze me and that whatever your age, as long as you have life and breath to pursue your dreams and your purpose. To let those you love know that you love them and show them that you love them. To forgive. Learn. Live. Laugh. Because tomorrow is promised to no man. But also it reminds me as my father has often preached at funerals, death is just a comma, not a period.
There is eternal life and I’m living this life to live again. This is just a part of the big picture.