I See a Bend in the Road

The rhythm of my feet echoed through my body as I walked. I felt a slight pull on my peach-coloured cardigan.  The pull wasn’t a here-I-am but a I-am-with-you pressure.   I didn’t speak.  No words were necessary. Beside me, like a shadow, was the boy who calls me Princess. My youngest child. My only son.  We walked like this for some time. A rare, quiet moment in time.

In my mind, I imprint the feel of the small presence beside me. I treasure the trust in the way he clutched my shirt.  I commit this memory to mind because there’s change in the air. There’s an urgency for me to take every moment. To grasp every opportunity. To invest in the moment.

Not so long ago, the days dragged on.  “The kids grow up so fast!” I heard over and over again. I wondered about that cliche.  In those days — the long days where nights and days are one — I was at risk of wishing the years away! Days were slow. S–L–O–W. A blur sometimes. Yes, the days do drag on in the early stages of parenting, but the years fly. The years fly by so fast and now on the path I’m walking, I can see a bend in the distance, and it’s closing on me fast.  This excites me, and terrifies me.

Have you ever concentrated on the sound of your feet as you walk?  The boom boom of  my feet ripple through my body in steady beats and time freezes around me.  Time freezes but I’m still moving. I see myself walking towards that bend in the road, and turning the corner to a new path. I can’t see what the path looks like, but I can see myself there.  You see, the little boy who calls me Princess will be at Kindergarten next year, and school the next.   I feel like I’m about to lose something precious, and I can’t stop it from happening.

The kids grow up so fast. There, I’m saying it now too! I can’t stop my children from growing up, and nor do I want to.  When I get to that bend in my road, very soon, I’ll embrace the new season. But I will also grieve the one that — I was going to say that I have lost lost — but it will not be lost; the moments and memories are still there. I’ll grieve the one that has past.

Until then, I’ll treasure the moments that time allows. I’ll treasure them by recognising them as important, as precious, as amazing.

{my son and I — a frozen moment}