Blur


I’ve been spending time with Hudson this week.  My grandson will be one year old in a few days.  He is the joy of my heart and I am soaking up baby love.  My plan was to post lots and lots of pictures of Hud Bud and report on all his antics.  I came equipped with a computer and a new iphone.  Even so, it didn’t happen and there are three reasons why.

First, I couldn’t take my eyes off the child long enough to grab the camera and shoot.  Every magical moment was worth capturing, but I was so captured by him that it seemed almost irreverent to break the spell with a camera.

Second, we were without an internet connection for a few days.  It was horrible and wonderful.  I missed checking the blog, Facebook, email, news — but there was plenty of time to read “Mr. Brown Can Moo, Can You?” over and over to a giggling boy.  There’s no comparison.

Third, I did try to take some pics, but every one of them is a blur.  To be sure, that’s a reflection on my poor photography skills.  Hudson, however, did not stay put for a second, ever.  We’ll both work on it.

There.  Those are all my excuses.  And now, here is where my heart is.

As I was scrolling through all those blurry photos on my phone, I thought, “How appropriate.”  Life is a blur, isn’t it?  Wasn’t I just the one passing dreary winter afternoons with little ones who didn’t take long enough naps?  Was it that long ago that I was cutting toast up into tiny bite-sized pieces for the child in the high chair?  Has it been years since the smell of fresh-washed babies slathered with Baby Magic filled the air?

Thinking back, I remember feeling utterly overwhelmed one Saturday night.  PB and I had gotten four children in and out of the tub — scrubbed, rubbed dry and in their jammies.  “And now,” I thought, “I have to trim eighty fingernails and toenails.”  Eighty!  I didn’t know how I could possibly carry the responsibility of eighty fingers and toes to trim and love and kiss and teach.  Somehow we made it.  We all survived.

Today I prayed for a moment of clarity in the midst of the motion.

I tip-toed into Hudson’s room and watched his little body breath in and out.

Stillness.  Rest.  That’s how to stop the blur.

photo (5)

photo (6)

photo (3)

photo (4)

16 thoughts on “Blur

  1. He’s using Maguire’s pillow! And now all I can think about is how blurred these last few years have been. I’m sitting here watching my kids have a tea party on the kitchen floor. They’ve asked me to join them so I guess I better make this a “clear” night to remember! Thanks for the reminder to enjoy each moment.

  2. What a great time for the two of you and Hudson – alone time is very special. I am reviewing old videos we took of our grandchildren and the memories are so great but to have Hudson at this moment is so precious – I know how your heart feels!!!!!He is so handsome.

  3. Sounds like you had a wonderful time, Thank you for the great message/reminder. Eighty is a big number, sometimes I feel overwhelmed to, but I need to learn to love it for what it is while I have it.

  4. These are the pictures and this is the story we have all been waiting for! Thanks Dinah for sharing your grandson with us! What a treasure!

  5. So precious PB showed them to us today.Today Lisa shared with me that when I used to take care of her daughter, she said those were good times for her,I remember the blurs and putting on 6 mittens, boots, etc. to get everyone outside, now I look back and appreciate the strength in the blur, and now blur is changing to new challenges. I miss those baby toes! And baby magic.

  6. I am late in responding because I have been in a blur of my own! Our new grandson has acutely reminded me of the blur that a new baby creates. Time warps into days with no beginning or end, accented with a new love that knows no beginning or end. I had forgotten how demanding and exhausting feeding a newborn every 2+ hours really is. And how difficult it is to find a few precious consecutive hours of sleep (key word being consecutive). Somehow the saying “sleep like a baby” doesn’t quite hold the intended meaning… But oh, how fleeting and precious those first days of life are — new life so tiny, so helpless, and so trusting. And a year later, they are not quite so tiny, but still helpless in many ways and still so trusting in our care. How wonderful when children have loving parents and grandparents to meet that trust.

    (And in our adulthood, we too are often helpless. We, too, must continue to trust in His care.)

    Love your photos! Love your message!

    • Benjamin is a handsome boy! Wouldn’t it be neat if all these cousins (2nd cousins, I guess) would be close friends? We’re gearing up for the coming of the twins – poor Hudson won’t be the center of attention. But we sure treasured the time with “just” him last week.

  7. You always seem to hit the core of my heart–you are so right–I look back from the first grand to number 9 grand–it is a blur–so just forget do anything else but holding and remembering each moment–they just melt the heart–so soon your arms will be over flowing–IT IS truly a BLESSING to be a GRANDMA

    • It’s amazing to see the family grow and multiply! We are looking forward to meeting Samuel. What a miracle! I’m thankful for “old” friends – the friends that we raised our kids with and now grands. Quite an adventure!

  8. Love this. As one who is regularly clipping 80 fingernails and toenails in my own home…. and I’m OLD to have kids this young. 🙂 But I’m grateful. And I have three weekends of travel coming up in the next 6 weeks – perfectly timed, but so thankful for those 100 fingers and toes that will beckon me home after each trip. 🙂

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s