When I was around five years old, I would play school with my neighbors, the sisters Theresa and Vanessa. They were that Catholic although I doubt either one became a nun. Vanessa was an old lady of probably nine and she was the teacher. She mostly taught me and Theresa songs like “Edelweiss” and “The 59th Street Bridge Song”. It was the 70s, you could mix “The Sound of Music” with Simon and Garfunkel.
The other night in an attempt to simultaneously soothe Brigid as well as crack her up, I sang “The 59th Street Bridge Song” to her.Slow down you move too fast Ya gotta make the morning last Just trippin’ down the cobblestones Looking for fun and feelin’ groooooovvyyy!!!
When I was growing up and frantic for everything to get done and panicked if I didn’t think it would, my mother would always say, “it always gets done.” No matter if “it” was a Halloween costume or a history paper, she was right. It always got done. Now that I am older and a mother, I have a clearer understanding of what she meant. There was much more to her words than completing a project. There was the idea of let it go, don’t sweat the small stuff before that became a best-selling book. Mom would also say, “and this too shall pass”. And doesn’t it? What is so monumental when one is young, seems so small as the years pass. Love will come around again. The bangs will grow out.
If there were one gift I could give to my girls it would be to slow down, it always gets and done and it gets done in its own time. I didn’t learn that lesson until I was probably 40.
You’re exhausted and can only think of crawling into bed and turning the world off? Do it. You can do the dishes in the morning and the clean kitchen police won’t come and issue a citation in the middle of the night. You are too tired and stressed out to finish your algebra tonight? Close the book and do it tomorrow. You will still have a shot at college if it’s not done till Monday. Why aren’t you in an academy award winning film at 15? I dunno. Keep working and maybe you will be in one when you’re 50.
I think I was 46 when I really got the gist of “Youth is wasted on the young.” The young lose so much time fretting about the trivial when they are healthy and beautiful and should be celebrating every day’s magic. Such is life though, I am not the first middle-aged woman to look at her children and shake her head thinking, “ahhh, if you only knew.” They’ll figure it out just as I did.