When I was a young girl ... (PKW)

(Possible kleenex warning!)

When I was a young girl, I believed that when I turned the radio off the music would stop.

And I was always puzzled when I would turn it back on hours, or even days later, that the song had changed.

I was so certain that "I think We're Alone Now" would still be playing, that I would start singing where it had stopped.

And for a long, long time I was always surprised.

It took me a while to figure out that the music went on for other people while it had stopped for me.

And sometimes on holidays, I feel like that still.

That somehow, my holiday will pick up automatically from last year and the year before that and the year before that.

That maybe I could start singing "Here Comes Peter Cottontail" and my childrens voices would join me in discordant harmony because only a day had passed since the last holiday.

In my head I am somehow still expecting my children to be small and dancing about in excitement with their little blond heads gilded with crazy morning hair, their eyes bright, their teeth shining in perfect little rows of dazzling white pearls. And I am always astonished that this is not the case.

I wonder how the years have passed so quickly.

And even though I keep the holiday traditions as best I can, there are never little feet running down the stairs in excitement now...or little voices squabbling over who got the most jellybeans...and certainly never little voices tired and tender with just-tucked-in sleepiness saying...

"Mommy, is there really an Easter Bunny?"

For you young mothers out there remember that these times will end.

That the radio keeps playing even when you are busy with housework and feeling overwhelmed with all the why's and bickering and running around that raising small children consists of.

That radio just keeps on playing and someday you will be in this moment puzzled and wondering why-oh-why-did-that-music-not-just-stop-playing when you weren't looking.

There is a simple quote that I try to embrace each waking moment...simple but somehow true for me.

"May you live every day of your life."

And just by your posts and e-mails we share I know so many of you do just that.

But as a Mother whose children are grown and gone can I just tell you something?

Remember it all. Hold it close. Treasure it now. Live it to the fullest.

Slow the music down while you can.

And remember all the melodies for someday.

They will be the songs that will help soothe your soul when your nest has grown empty.

Wishing you all hugs, moments of new memories, beautiful melodies and happy times remembered.