Blink and you'll miss it
When I was growing up, my parents would always be focused on the past, or the future.
“Things were great back when …” or, “Won’t it be great when …”
As a result, they were either depressed that life used to be better, or frustrated that they hadn’t reached their goals yet.
Sometimes they’d be inspired and excited by the future potential, but as they have aged it’s been harder for them to access. They believe their best days are behind them.
My dad continually moves forward and never stops. He’s always chasing, or more likely, running away - perhaps he’s afraid of what he may find if he lingers.
My mum wallows in self-inflicted misery, trying desperately to return to how things were.
For the last 15 years, it felt to me that the world was fairly static. I could take my time in one area of life, and when I returned to another, things would be the same. I didn’t feel like there was anything I was missing out on or losing.
Now, with Mr P, everything is different. Watching him grow is like seeing a star explode. A white-hot burning flare, and then it’s gone.
Flash, and he’s crawling.
Flash, he doesn’t need me to hold his head up anymore.
Another flash, and he says ‘mum.’
Flash, flash — trying food for the first time, walking. They’re getting faster.
I can’t go back. He will never try sushi rice for the first time again. But I was there when he did, and it was fantastic.
I am so grateful to be witness to this, rather than stuck in an office while life whirls past my window.
I wish my parents could access the joy that is abundant in their lives, rather than focusing on what they think they don’t have.
All the twinkling treasure right in front of them, yet they cannot see it - their eyes glued to the horizon.