It's nice to be a kid again

I've never once regretted my childhood. I think I had the best childhood of anyone I know. I know I was an old soul in a child's body. Looking back, I can see how abuse colored the way I was then. I can see how it stole from who I was. 

I'm in cancer remission now, and I look back on cancer, and I can't say I regret my four year battle with that, either. It changed me, no doubt. My children, too. But do I regret it - even one minute of it? No.

Today we were driving home from a doctor's appointment, the air laden with rain and cool for the first time in weeks. We turned off the air conditioning, opened up the windows and had a screaming contest as we drove down the country road. Caleb's was the most piercing, Amy's the most horrifying, Rosy's the most high-pitched, Katy sounded the most like she was dying, and mine was the loudest. We laughed and laughed, all the way home. The kids called me the silliest mom on the planet. They said I was just like a kid, the best friend-mom kids could have.

Maybe I didn't learn to be a romantic until I was in my 30's. Maybe I lost something of my childhood when I was eight, and so I get to do it all over again while my oldest is eight. Is that so bad?

With every loss, there's an opportunity for gain. Joy explodes through the cracks. No way am I going to waste time focusing on all the bad that got me to this moment. Because this moment? It couldn't possibly be better. And it wouldn't be possible without all that bad.

Thus says the Lord: “Keep your voice from weeping and your eyes from tears, for there is a reward for your work," declares the Lord, "There is hope for your future." (Jeremiah 31:16-17 exc.)