I seriously can’t believe you’ve been Earth-side for three years already. It blows my mind. I know I’ve said this before, but how did that happen? How has time moved so quickly?
The thought occurred to me today that you are 3…… and we only have 15 years left.
Obviously, I know that you aren’t going to go “poof” and disappear at 18. But…..kind of. I know you’ll be around, but not ours. You’ll belong to yourself. And it won’t be the same.
15 years ago, I was 20 years old. I had only been out of grade school for two years. I was just beginning to discover the world and my place in it. I was young and free and independent, yet scared and naive and uncautious.
My life was college and friends and (let’s be honest) parties.
I’m older now, but sometimes I don’t feel older. Sometimes, I can close my eyes and still remember exactly how I felt driving my little red car, windows down, music blasting, on some dirt side road. I can remember the fear of a first date. The exhilaration of a first kiss. I can remember the feeling and the smell of the apartment I shared with Auntie Heidi, on St. Clair. I can remember our living room floor covered with friends laughing after a late night of waiting tables at Sydney’s.
I can still feel the high feeling after being on stage for my first few gigs. I remember the sweat and the triumph and the notion that, for that moment in time, we were like royalty. Like we would live forever…
The memories rush by like Polaroids in my mind. It feels like only yesterday.
So, you see, I know how quickly 15 years can go…
And yet, there’s something that magically happened to time the moment you joined the earth. Somehow, the day you arrived, time seemed to simultaneously slow and quicken. Those first few weeks, with you, felt like some of the longest days of my life. Since then, time has mostly just sped by.
Once, you were a baby. Then I blinked….
It’s true what they say about having kids. It changes the way days move. Suddenly, a week feels like a minute. I’m finding myself constantly wishing there were more hours in the day. Never feeling like there is enough time to get through lists upon lists of to-dos.
That’s when I realize it.
As time keeps rushing past me, like a piece of grass in a river, so are you too.
Where there was once a little baby – chubby-cheeked and clumsy, there is now a little boy – overflowing with energy and wit and personality and questions.
I LOVE who you are becoming.
You are kind. You are courageous. You are smart and funny. You have an intense curiosity that leads you to explore the world around you and people in it. In a time and space where people rush, hurriedly from place to place, hardly stopping to notice one another, you force them to notice you – letting them know that you see them too. I’ve seen this at work many times when we’re walking through a restaurant or store. The connection. You SEE people. And I believe it brings people genuine joy to pause with you and be seen for a minute.
So, I hope you won’t mind if we steal a bit of that time. To pause with you too.
I don’t want to just watch the days fly past. I don’t want to count time in tasks and to-dos. I don’t want to miss these next 15 years. I don’t want to watch you head out into the world at 18, wishing I had taken more time to stop and see you.
So, off we’ll go on our next adventure.
Together, we will say goodbye to some of the things that have helped shape our last few years as a little family. And we will say hello to new roads and bridges we can’t even see yet.
It will be awesome and painful and beautiful and messy and scary and exciting and completely ours.
I think the road to 4 is looking pretty good already.
Cheers to you. Cheers to the next 15.
I love you, Buggy.