A Passing Glimpse

Today was officially our last summer day, so I wanted to have a “do nothing” day. We finished school shopping this week with new backpacks, lunchboxes, shoes, and outfits. We were on the go all summer between summer camps, soccer, trips to hotels and amusement parks, camping, train rides and swimming lessons. I think we had only one day all summer when we never left the house. This morning I was ready for a “do nothing” day. Do nothing? Yeah, right… with three kids in the house, we were all climbing the walls by about 10:00 am.
So I packed lunches in their old lunchboxes, and by early afternoon, we had set out to “walk” our favorite trail, The Robert Frost “Interpretive Trail” in Ripton, Vermont. Some of Mr. Frost’s poems are posted along the way where walkers can pause, read, and reflect on the words written by the famous poet. Now, notice I said walkers can pause etc. Have you ever gone on a hike with children? They (at least mine) don’t move at a walking pace. They run, skip, hop, jump… but they don’t walk. Ever.
They ran ahead and shouted, “Mom! We’ll wait for you at the bridge,” or “Mom! I’m going off the path and I’ll meet you at the next corner.” That sort of thing.
While I walked, and sometimes I paused, read, and reflected on the words of several poems. Like this poem:
I often see flowers from a passing car
That are gone before I can tell what they are.

I want to get out of the train and go back
To see what they were beside the track.

I name all the flowers I am sure they weren't;
Not fireweed loving where woods have burnt--

Not bluebells gracing a tunnel mouth--
Not lupine living on sand and drouth.

Was something brushed across my mind
That no one on earth will ever find?

Heaven gives it glimpses only to those
Not in position to look too close.
This poem makes me think back to the first time I took my kids to the Robert Frost trail. My older son stayed within ten feet of me and my younger son held my hand. The idea of a third child, especially a foster daughter, had never crossed my mind. And we swiftly walked the mile loop, NEVER stopping to read a single poem. It was as if I was in the train car that Robert Frost referred to in his poem, and my children, the engineers, were driving it at full speed. That’s how it is. All parents say it, “Don’t blink because they grow up so fast!” Robert Frost said, “Heaven gives its glimpses only to those not in a position to look too close.” Do they mean the same thing? I think so.
All of Robert Frost’s poems talk of nature and are symbols of life and death. This particular poem reminds a lot of the last official day of summer. It was a great day, from which I can’t really pick my favorite moment. Was it when the kids ate their lunch in the arms of a giant pine tree? Was it when we all made fairy houses in the forest on the side of a steep hill to protect the fairies from impending Hurricane Irene? Was it when the kids crossed the brook barefoot? Was it picking wild blueberries and mulberries and staining our fingers and lips? I don’t know. They were all moments I can try to grab and hold in my heart, but Mr. Frost called them “glimpses.” He was right… the fall comes and then the winter comes and soon everything is covered in snow and then we are all older.
In the car, my younger son said to me, “Mom. Today’s your last day of summer vacation as a 43 year old.”
My, he’s tuned in. And it’s his last one as an eight year old.
Ahh! I could cry. I want to grab my kids and hug them and tell them to stop growing, but that’s not the way it’s supposed to be. Maybe instead of getting all sentimental, we can enjoy the last bit of today by watching a bad kid’s movie together. I’ll guess I’ll pop the corn.