I am an assistant principal in a middle school (grades 6-8). When I have to search a student's cell phone, I often get sick to my stomach at what I find. It gets worse and worse every year.
"When you become a mom, the years all of a sudden start flying by. At lightspeed. You try hard to slow down time, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t figure out the magic potion to freeze time."
"Oh momma, how could we have known that in only six short months from that day you surrendered to Jesus, you would be standing in His very presence worshiping around the Throne?"
"Thanks for babysitting baby dolls, and letting tiny hands put polish on your big toes. Here’s to the dads who watch princess movies, and slow dance in the kitchen."
"My deepest regret is that because I was so blindsided, I didn't know our last conversation would be just that: Our last. To all of those who have lost a mother, parent or loved one, know this: They are not lost, and we are not motherless."
Slow down and notice her smile. If it’s there, or if it’s not. Bring it out more often. Teach her the world takes notice at her laugh, it seems brighter and more hopeful when she smiles. Capture those smiles in your pocket.
It wasn't until I lost my mom that I learned to truly appreciate the simple times we had together. I pray you don't make the same mistake with your mothers—or daughters. It's hard being a motherless mom.
