Shadows of a Quill

When you are a kid, the summer lasts for a year, and the year lasts for a day. I remember being a kid just waiting to grow up. My sister and I used to mark the doors with our height to keep track of how big we had grown. My sister was always tall and lanky, and I was always short and fluffy. I remember thinking I would never grow to be as tall as my sister.

Then one day about a year and a half later I went to mark my height, and I was just above one of my sister’s marks. I decided on that day that I knew how long never was… it was about a year and a half.

Some time later I gave my heart to a boy, and we said that it would last forever. And for a very long time I thought it would. Then about three years later forever ended. I remember thinking that I now knew exactly how long forever was,…and it was twice as long as never.

After that I was still young and fearless to a fault. I thought to myself that I would always be wild and spontaneous, no matter whom I met or what I did. I had finally found myself. About two years later I had my first child. At that point I realized I now knew just how long always was as well… it was somewhere between never and forever.

In thinking about how I had some insight into the world and what people meant when they said the words forever, never, and always, I soon realized I would forever be a mommy, and my life would never be the same again… and I would always be thankful that I knew that.