For Another Season by Jen Robinson

She was softly pacing the nursery, whispering a lullaby to her newborn, anticipating the moment when she could rest her weary head back onto her pillow. It was 3:00 am and for the past week, she had been up, soothing her baby girl back to sleep. She began thinking of the day when her baby would be a little older and finally sleep through the night. Then she said to herself: “That is for another season. For now, I will soak up every wee hour in the morning snuggles I can get.”

She was searching for her coffee again, when she remembered that she had placed it in the microwave for the second time that morning. The constant demand of her little ones always hanging on her legs or jumping onto her back for horsy rides made drinking hot coffee uninterrupted nearly impossible. She had become accustomed to re-heating and re-heating the same cup over and over again. She began thinking of when her littles ones would be a little older and wouldn’t attach themselves to her body in such a way where she could sip her coffee slowly, finishing each drop without any dependency on the microwave. Then she said to herself: “That is for another season. For now, I will soak up every horsy ride I can give.”

She was rushing out the door for the third time this week, hauling the crew to their softball practice, basketball practice, and play date. As she dashed out of the house, reciting her usual poem, “keys, phone, purse, baseball glove…” she noticed her neighbor next door sitting on her front porch, feet propped up, with a glass of tea and nose deep in a book. She began thinking of when her kids would be a little older, and she would actually have the time to relax on a weekday afternoon to leisurely read a book. Then she said to herself: “That is for another season. For now, I will soak up every sports shuttle and carpool I can drive.”

She woke up from her full eight hours of sleep, grabbed a book and steaming cup of coffee in her favorite “Best Grandma Ever “mug, and sat down in her usual spot on the porch. As she exhaled, she couldn’t help but notice the silence. The calmness. She began recalling those seasons of exhausted early morning snuggles, re-heated residual coffee, and chaotic minivan shuttles. She missed them.

The phone rang. She answered immediately. Her daughter, frantically on the other end, said, “Mom, the baby kept me up all night. I’m so tired, I’m not sure I can function today.”

She said with a smile, “I’m on my way.” She quickly left her hot coffee and her book. Then she said to herself: “This is another season. I am going to soak up every minute of being a grandma that I can!”

Seasons change. While we’re in the trenches of it, it can be hard to always see the goodness in the current season. But one day, we look back and we relish those memories. Every mess. Every morning spent looking for the car keys. Every night working on science projects. The wisdom is to enjoy this day. This moment. This season.  Because there will always be time for other things in another season.