On Crying

I have always been an emotional person. I cry when I'm happy, I cry when I'm sad, I cry when I'm scared, I cry when I'm mad. You get the picture, right?

Lately, I've been hit with the crying (or at least choking up) bug at really odd times. Is it a getting older thing? I took Ian, my six year old son, to swim lessons last Saturday. I stood peering through the glass at him while he sat on the edge of the pool with the other kids in his class and my eyes filled with tears. He just looked so little among the other kids, and that is not something I'm used to feeling about my oldest child. The funny thing is, he wasn't the smallest kid in his class by a long stretch. And in our house, he's the oldest, the big brother. I often see him with his little sisters, so I think of him as a "big kid." But here he was, nervous and excited about starting a new class, and all I could see was my little boy, still a little boy, not a big boy like I usually think. It struck me right in the heart. My eyes were filled with tears for the big boy I forgot was still little. In the daily grind and the responsiblities of turning our kids into productive and useful citizens, I forgot my boy was just a six year old, vulnerable, funny, loving, sweet.

A similar thing happened to me last week when I was driving from somewhere to somewhere else. I just completely choked up thinking about my husband, about how I don't know what I'd do without him. About how long we've been together and how much our lives have changed. About how I love him so much that my heart actually aches sometimes.

I don't know if this is a getting older thing, just a Heather thing, or maybe God's way of reminding me I am so amazingly blessed. It's probably a little of each.