wrinkles in time

One of my favorite books from my book-devouring middle school years was the book A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle. I was captivated by the plot's focus on the idea of travel within the space-time continuum. The theory posits that ordinarily time stretches out in a flat line, but occasionally something goes awry within the universe, and what results are small little 'wrinkles in time' where one moment in the past overlaps with one moment in the future. The moments are usually brief, no more than a few minutes at best, but within that wrinkle there is the ability to reach through time and connect two very distinctly-separate events, whether physically or psychologically. Some people liken this phenomenon to 'deja vu', when you get that undeniable feeling that you've been in that very specific situation before, when you know logically that you have not....some would say that is the hallmark characteristic of a 'wrinkle in time.'

I had the strangest sensation of one of these 'wrinkles' tonight as I was putting Caroline to bed. Call it a wrinkle in time, call it a flash-forward (for those Lost fans), but whatever you call it, I had the distinct feeling of being powerfully connected to a moment in the future. I had put on her lullaby music and she was picking out a book to read, as we do every night at bedtime. Nothing unusual at all. But as the music turned to the second round of the chorus of the song, I suddenly had the overpowering feeling of being 40-something years old and haphazardly coming across that old lullaby cd, long forgotten buried in a box somewhere in our house. Turning on the cd player and hearing that sweet melody, unleashing a flood of emotions, a gut-wrenching wistful yearning to hold my sweet little baby again. And the wave of emotion of that accompanied that longing was so real, so tangible, so entirely visceral it stopped me dead in my tracks and took my breath away. Caroline returned to the chair and climbed up in my lap and I could hardly sob my way through The Very Hungry Caterpillar, rubbing her head and smelling her fresh baby-shampooed hair, feeling the weight of her tiny body curled up in my lap. I just knew, down to my very bones, somewhere in the future there was another me who was also sobbing on the bedroom floor, yearning to have just one more moment with that long-gone baby. Somehow the two moments collided in a wrinkle in time, and for a good solid 3 minutes I had the distinct feeling of being graciously allowed to witness this ordinary bedtime through an entirely different set of eyes. Caroline looked up at me and studied my face, trying to understand the tears streaming down my face. She reached her little hand up and touched each cheek, wiping the tears, and it was all I could do to simply keep breathing. So real. So unexplainably real.

But like all wrinkles in time, this one was equally as ephemeral and the moment suddenly passed as quickly as it had descended. I was quickly snapped back to the present when my sweet little cherub demanded to be let into the bathroom and then fell into hysterics when I didn't comply. Time to get back into full Mom duty and deal with the less-glamorous toddler tantrums. But the overpowering sensation of those 3 minutes continued to haunt me for hours afterward. I tried to shake the tears and take away a lesson in gratitude from the encounter, a reminder to live every day, every moment, fully present. It's a challenge when you're caught up in the grind of ordinary life- cleaning up yet another mess, wrestling to get the shoes on, carrying a writhing screaming unhappy toddler up to the bedroom for an overdue nap. But when these moments arrive I will try to remember the wistful longing that inexplicably descended upon me tonight, and how somewhere in the future there's a 40-something who would happily hand over a king's ransom for the chance to carry a toddler again.

I've been forewarned. Lesson duly noted. And just to make sure I have something to look back to when that day in the future arrives, I captured one of our more-pleasant trips up the stairs on video (well more like audio....there's no video because I had to shove the phone in my pocket to hold her hands and help her up the stairs. Turn the volume up on your computer so you can hear.) No kicking or screaming or protesting, instead we were practicing counting. She missed a number or two, but overall not bad for a 19-month-old! This is the sweet little voice I'll want to hear over and over again when I find myself in that moment in the future. But hopefully when that wrinkle arrives and I'm on the other side this time, I'll smile at the memories and the knowledge that I lived each moment fully present.