Today, I find myself really missing the time I spent with my son while on leave. The days we spent playing, running and laughing. The hard days. The sick days. Days I wouldn’t trade for anything. I found myself wishing I could go back.
I’ve been back to work for a little over a month now, and I’ve struggled to adjust to the change. It was hard leaving Nathan, and it still is. I constantly think to myself that things were simpler and life seemed fuller.
But then, some things have a habit of snapping you back to reality in ways you don’t expect.
I was looking forward to my first set of days off to continue what we had when I was on leave. But on the first day, I found myself exhausted – more so than normal. I was sluggish. Careless. And Nathan was his usual pent up, energetic self. I couldn’t keep up. All I wanted to do was drink my coffee…
*sigh*
My coffee…
At some point, Nathan was getting fed up with my lack of energy. He crawled all over me. Pinching and biting—Nathan decided he would make himself as much of a nuisance as possible. He kept reaching for my coffee. And I kept moving it. Finally, in an effort that genuinely defied the laws of physics itself, he managed to hook the lip of the mug with his toe while I had him in my arms… and sent the coffee flying all over the living room rug. And today, of all days, I had decided to put some cream in my coffee…
Yuck!
I was beyond frustrated. Mostly at myself.
Is this what I had been missing? Is this what I remember from the time we spent together? It didn’t feel the same. Did it?
The simple answer is that it didn’t feel the same because it isn’t.
It was fun seeing him at that particular stage of development and exciting to see the changes, twists and turns that that time provided. I was used to it and comfortable with it—even when it came with its own challenges.
But those stages I was used to are not where we are today. Those days have passed, and we’ve moved on to something new. And while I find myself wishing I could relive those days, the hard truth I have to come to terms with is that there is no going back.
But that’s every aspect of life generally, isn’t it?
In this bittersweet realization lies a profound truth: the inevitability of change. Seasons turn, people evolve, and the world spins ceaselessly forward. Even if we revisit old places or reconnect with old friends, things will differ from what we remember. Still, we grow, we stumble, we learn. As we do, we come to understand that while we cannot reclaim what has been lost to the relentless march of time, we always carry its essence within us.
This world is not the one I remember, but I’m excited to see what it brings. My son is ever-changing, and as he does, so must I.
“We can never go back,” they say. And perhaps that’s the beauty of it all.
The CJBuzz 