Saturday, November 12, 2005

anticipation and contentment

Life is a string of anticipation and longing. Hope and impatience are far too intertwined.
Even the happiest and most fulfilling moments of my life seem to be filled with some kind of anticipation for something else. Something that is next. The distraction of the future always seems to blur the present.
The breathtaking beauty of each season fills me with a great sense of responsibility to somehow soak it in. To capture it. To truly appreciate the fleeting perfection of what is all around me. The older I get, the more I try to hold on to the images, smells, feelings of beauty. But part of me is always longing for the next thing...

...Winter... warm houses that smell like candles, Christmas lights, family, snow transforming trees into icy lace, nostalgic music, black and white classic movies, presents, candle light concerts and church traditions...

Winter is next. And I am already imagining my red dining room lit with the glow of a Christmas tree, Ryan's train set circling around the base of the tree, stockings hanging from the banister covered with garland and berries, and all the windows filled with candles. But today is a perfect November day. The sky is just a little hazy, but still yellow and warm from the sun. Most of the trees are bare, but leaves seem to be everywhere, floating around like falling snow...only in rich, earthy colors.

Even more than my fascination with the changing my longing for the next part of life. Already, so much of me belongs to my child. I know that I still don't even begin to comprehend how much I will love this baby. But I'm beginning to know. And the agony of not being able to see or hold this life that has taken over my body is excruciating and wonderful. I want to at least call her by name...or him. To talk to him and begin to imagine a son or a daughter.

Yet I know that my peaceful days and nights with Ryan will soon change forever. And that frightens me. I love the ease of our relationship, the spontanious ways we spend our time together.
And as much as I fantasize about being at home during the day next up many of my work responsibilities and stresses, I love teaching every day. I love hearing smiling six year olds shout "Mrs. Corbin!!" and overwhelm me with hundreds of daily hugs. My students have become "my kids." Like a parent, I worry about my middle and high schoolers and all the decisions they will make about themselves and their futures and their friends. I see them every day, and I love sharing my life with them. I haven't made any solid decisions about what I will keep and what I will give up, but I know that whatever pieces are cut will be deeply missed. Though it probably won't compare with my new role, I will miss what I do now.

So I try to soak it in. Even the drudgery and the exhausting long days. I know that what is next is different and wonderful and beyond my understanding. There are very few moments when my thoughts are not consumed with the future...and my anticipation. But I don't want to miss the beauty of right now either.


Sally said...

I love Nicole Nordeman's son about Seasons...

God bless you and YOURS!

Redbaerd said...

Great writing and thinking Ang.

Your words were both beauty and exhortation to me.

I love that language about how much of us belongs to our children and the complexity of that belonging...

Erica said...

When are you going to start posting pictures of your belly?

Ang said...

i'll post pictures of my belly when I get one :)
so far, I can tell that something is different...and Ryan can tell, but I don't think you would see a difference yet.
Thanks for your sweet's so fun to get personal mail :)

Wags said...

ang, my favorite post in a long while... out of everyone's that I read... thanks!

Daniel Rudd said...

I will be posting pictures of my belly soon.
Hope this helps.

Dave said...

So i'm procrastinating doing homework... and as usual i have found some thought provoking writing from Ang is enough to make my laziness somewhat justified.

Jerry DePoy Jr. said...

What a delicious read! I am so happy for you and Ryan, as you anticipate this new life growing inside you.
My wife (Jamie) and I agree that our daughter (Mariah) has taught us more about life and God and love, than anything else on earth.
This will certainly be a memorable Thanksgiving for you both. God bless,
- Jerry DePoy Jr.

Erica said...


Thanks for the offer. I am not sure how Andrea would feel about that... I am not sure how I would feel about that.