Katie and Annie went back to school this morning. I got up early enough to see Josh before he went to work. He was banging cupboards, throwing coffee and sugar into a cup and all over the sides, treading mud through the house and rushing to catch his train. Katie was upstairs getting dressed not wanting to go back to school, Annie running around making too much noise for 6.45am while Alice and my niece, Beth who is staying with us for a while were still in bed enjoying their last days before starting college later in the week.
Once Josh left, I breathed a sigh of what I thought at first was relief but I soon realised was a sigh of contentment. As I cleaned up the sugar from the now sticky sides, a wave of nostalgia swept over me. As manic as our mornings can be, I realised that one day, they will be no more. I found myself smiling at how precious our lives are, how wonderful it is to be able to clean up after my son, to have to tell my daughters to be quiet and hurry up because there will be a day in the future when the only mess I’m going to be cleaning up is my own. When I wake and the house is silent but for my own feet shuffling along the floor and I knew then that I’m going to miss this morning with a passion, that I’m going to look back on this day and remember it for the beautiful moment in time it really is. A moment when life slowed down just long enough for me to see the beautiful reality of all the noise, mess and chaos and I decided to bank it in my memory and treasure it, to be pulled back out in those years when it is no more.