Is it too late to say Happy New Year? Since this is my first post of 2013, I'm gonna say it's not too late 'round here, so Happy New Year!
I've had a bit of writer's block and a lot of busy to start the New Year, but something January posted today got me thinking about an experience from last night that I noted at the time, but didn't have words for and would probably have forgotten about.
About a month ago, I shared Laura Bush's comments on infertility.
And today, January posted about that same quote and the song "Call Me, Maybe." She highlighted the specific line of: Before you came into my life I missed you so bad, you should know that I missed you so, so bad.
While Mrs. Bush speaks on infertility and Carly Rae Jepsen sings about finding a husband, it has been noted many times in this blogosphere that the waiting experienced in both can be similar, without any idea of how long it will continue. It is true, there are no words to describe someone who is not there, so we are left with saying we "miss" the child or husband who is not yet in our lives.
When we look to our future, at any time, we all have dreams, hopes, plans, goals. It is our human nature to look forward to what may come. For most of you reading this, and myself, we dreamt of a husband and children. For a long time, those dreams are joyous look-forward-tos; plans for the future; sources of excitement. But then, something happens and time passes, and those dreams start to become reminders of what isn't and may never be, moments of missing the future planned.
So many times in our early marriage when The Man and I would sit down to have dinner, I would picture children and find joy in planning our future. I would smile at the thought of crumbs on the table or a child playing nearby who had finished quickly and been excused from the table.
But last night, as we sat down to dinner, I glanced around and I missed those children. I looked right at the spot where I could picture one playing (a bit too close to the dog's tail), and I looked to the table where I could see the crumbs and chubby fingers full of crackers. It was as if I could see the life, the lives, the people, that I dreamt of, only instead of seeing it as a future and full of joy, I saw it as a shadow of what could be, and I missed it. It was a fleeting moment, a pause in a dinner conversation of laughter, teasing, and silliness; a moment that The Man, if he noticed a change on my face, he didn't say anything about it.
Yes, someone(s) I've never had, never met, I missed. Someone(s) I may never have, may never meet, I missed. I miss them.