Yakima Mom

All Things Mom

A Rolling Stone

Can someone please tell me

When did this

become this?

And when did this little cutie

Turn into this beautiful creature?

And this one

Become a man?

The journey of mothering is a rolling stone on a hill,
Continually gathering speed.
The clumps of grass, the tree trunks, and hillocks
Only serve to pause the journey for the shortest of moments–
Perhaps just long enough to snap a photo
and freeze the instant in time.
And then the stone races on,
closer and closer…

To what?

The end of mothering,
as the fledglings fly.

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5 thoughts on “A Rolling Stone

  1. And Joan-you are spot on. Too fast, too fast…

  2. You're not old, baby. I held YOU when you were just a baby!

  3. I know you're out there, you mom's in the same boat! Can you give me a little inspiration-perspective-hope?Christina

  4. So true Christina. Ever since the boys started school I've said there are four seasons:School year beginsChristmasSpring BreakSchool Ends.and then they get another year older, how else did they all get so big?

  5. Now that just makes me feel really old…i held your oldest when he was just a baby. Time sure flies!

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