When lockdowns began suddenly last spring, our busy days came to a screeching halt. The shift was abrupt and disorienting and I can distinctly recall the uncomfortable feeling of confused, anxious restlessness that underscored every one of those first several days of quarantine.
I quickly became accustomed to the pace of sheltering in place, an altogether easy thing for a homebody like me to do. I look back on that time with such fondness in my heart which has now been further magnified by new circumstance.
I’m only able to sit and reflect so self-indulgently at this particular moment because our school rhythm has yet to begin. It is Monday morning, after all, but thankfully we are still on holiday. Instead of rising and heading straight into the day, I’m taking advantage of the opportunity to slowly sip my latte and reminisce – the very last vestige of a morning unburdened by obligation.
Time moves forward. Gather with you now all the magic you can carry.
Does a mother ever stop longing for her babies?
And in conclusion: while considering a title for this brilliant missive just now, I searched my archives (as I sometimes do) to see if I’d used this particular quote before (I hadn’t!). For whatever reason, this vintage piece turned up, and I was instantly reminded of a million things, the most important of which is to never stop writing.