Seasonal Thoughts ~

We are in the midst of the holiday season. For me, life is simple again this year. No Christmas decorations; no cooking. The presents have been bought, wrapped, mailed, and a few now sit quietly on my couch.

I’m not complaining.

Simple holidays bring a sense of peace, calm, and reflection. Yet, even in that simplicity, the world hums loudly—traffic thickens, gifts are opened virtually, families travel across states, and schedules stretch thin as everyone tries to fit joy into already-full days.

There’s a quiet tension this time of year: the desire for stillness paired with the expectation of movement.

As every parent knows, life was once simpler—before the joys of our lives arrived. We were responsible only for ourselves and the partnerships we formed along the way.

Then our children came, and life became wonderfully chaotic. We told ourselves it would get easier as they grew older. But it didn’t—it simply became more complex. Even when they earned their driver’s licenses, life didn’t slow. And for me, the college years weren’t calmer either. They were filled with phone calls, reassurance, suggestions, and inquiry as to my opinions.

Psychology Today describes this beautifully in The Seasons of Parenting, noting that parenting doesn’t end as children grow; it evolves, deepens, and reshapes itself across time.

What did change for me was depth. Conversations deepened. Relationships deepened. My daughters became my best friends. They challenged my thinking and opened a window into their generation—one shaped by the introductions of cell phones, Myspace, and a new way of existing in the world.

Motherhood now feels like tending a garden through the seasons.

In the early years, everything requires attention—watering, protecting, guiding growth. Later, the garden grows strong on its own. The gardener steps back, no longer directing every stem, simply observing what has taken root.

Today, my daughters are mature, successful women—wives and mothers—and they continue to teach me. Watching them raise their own children feels like seeing the leaves return each spring. Familiar expressions. Familiar laughter. Familiar curiosity.

AARP writes about this full-circle experience in Grandparenting and the Joy of Watching Life Come Full Circle, describing how grandchildren reconnect us to memories we didn’t realize we missed.

I see my daughters in their children. And I am reminded—again and again—of the joy they are.

So amid the craziness of the season, I’m grateful for the simplicity life has offered me. Simplicity doesn’t mean absence—it means space. Space to remember. Space to reflect. Space to breathe.

Here’s to my beautiful daughters. To all that they have become. And to the seasons that carry us—forward and back again.

~ julie

If you feel so inclined, please reply with your thoughts.

Note: JM Lane is NOT a mental health professional, nor does she carry a license to practice medicine. Posts, blogs, and content are based on JM Lane’s personal experiences, perceptions, and reflections. By no means does any material convey what others should or should not do.