Slipping Through My Fingers...

"Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well-known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while

The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake, I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny

What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
(Slipping through my fingers all the time)
Well, some of that we did but most we didn't
And why, I just don't know

Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time

Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers
Slipping through my fingers all the time..."

I can't listen to that song by ABBA without tears. Neither can my mother.

As I lie here in bed at 11 am (which is unusual for me, if I'm in bed at this time, it's because I'm sleeping), I am very aware that this is one of my last days in my own room, that the silence of the house is rarely, if ever, going to occur for me again.

I'm partly relieved and partly sobered...the sudden changes of it all is startling, a little frightening.

No intention of spending the entire day in bed...I'll get up, take some painkillers (for a headache) when I've done writing this - when will I write here again? - shower, sort out the presents, start the thank you notes, tidy my room...

The world is topsy turvy; I'm half inclined to dig my heels in and bawl loudly for it to slow down, and half compelled to laugh at the sheer madness of it all. When has life ever been straight forward? I wanted to dig my heels in when my parents got divorced...slow down everything, examine it, understand it, but life rushes on without ever giving a breathing space and one has to see, think, be thankful for what one has at a moment's notice.

So basically - I'm getting married. Not in a way or a place like anything that had ever crossed my mind, to a man I hadn't imagined and in a timespan like I hadn't dreamed, but that's always been life, for me. Never slow and always quick and life is so short, anyway...so quick...so brief...

I'm 23 years old, and in double my lifespan now, I could be sitting here tapping out another blog post about nostalgic feelings of my own daughter getting married. Now that is disturbing.

So short...so brief...can I raise kids the way I want to, pray to, hope to? Can I be a good mother? Life is made up of the infinite little moments...the short, the precious, the brief...that is where those defining little factors are that make up life, that influence a child, a life, an opinion, a grounding, a faith, a hope, a dream...

I try to capture every minute...so long since I last wrote in my diary but there are always people around...lunch break, travelling - hanging out with friends, phone calls, Bible reading, all the stuff I can't do because I'm constantly moving or doing something...get home and plan to do so much but end up collapsing in an I-don't-wanna-move heap on the sofa. Slowly, I'm coming to realise the fact that no matter how much rest or how much sleep I get, it will never equate the amount of tired I feel. I don't understand that. Maybe cause it's brain-tired and not body-tired?
The longing, aching to catch up with old friends as well as the terrified shunning since the rejection is still here. So is the passionate longing to work on From Self-Harm to Victory more. How?

Reception hall is booked...we viewed a house yesterday, too. Possibly changing the church because the reception hall was brilliantly low priced, thank God!
My parents are being very helpful and supportive, and have worked out a scheme for Atul moving in with us to save money for the wedding, for us to get our own place afterwards (he takes my room, I sleep in Mom's, etc.) They've even offered us to stay with them the first couple of months.

And this is December 29th, 2015...I never dreamed I would be here, like this. In pain, yes, with a broken heart, yes, but never this - life turning around again, upside down and inside out.

Life and change and excitement and adventure is good...I just wish the tired would catch up, but I don't think it ever will, now.

Praying and hoping and dreaming and thinking and rushing and walking and climbing and falling and...

I'm so thankful God is with me. The only stable and unchanging thing - Person - in our lives. For all of our claims to love change, we always search for that one security, the one stability - a permanent job, our own place, a stable relationship, a faithful spouse, a natural progression in life and in the lives of those we love.
Naa. Life is made up of storms and tornadoes and hurricanes, but there is always an Eye to the storm and a Rock, unchanging and unmoving, in the middle of it.
Christ.

In Him alone I trust.

Siân