There is a space in between
When the kids aren't grown
still needing your constant care.
And the parents aren't gone
But they're no longer young.
Crown of wisdom grey in their hair.
Kids need detangling
and reminders to brush
And grounding from 3DS.
Parents need explaining
And repeating of plans
Understanding of natural regress.
The hustle and bustle
Of concerts and Scouts
Homework and flute in between.
The listening to stories
For the umpteenth time
With a smile so as not to demean.
There's a place in between
Of worry and care
For the child, young and old.
When the "kid" in the middle
Pours out to both
Helpless to time's unfold.
Little girl's not so little
Gloss on her lips
Don't grow up too fast.
Grand getting grander
Memory eclipsed
Wanting every moment to last.
Settling in
To the space in between
One day, one struggle at a time.
Embracing the moments
Seizing the days
Girding my heart for the climb.
When the kids aren't grown
still needing your constant care.
And the parents aren't gone
But they're no longer young.
Crown of wisdom grey in their hair.
Kids need detangling
and reminders to brush
And grounding from 3DS.
Parents need explaining
And repeating of plans
Understanding of natural regress.
The hustle and bustle
Of concerts and Scouts
Homework and flute in between.
The listening to stories
For the umpteenth time
With a smile so as not to demean.
There's a place in between
Of worry and care
For the child, young and old.
When the "kid" in the middle
Pours out to both
Helpless to time's unfold.
Little girl's not so little
Gloss on her lips
Don't grow up too fast.
Grand getting grander
Memory eclipsed
Wanting every moment to last.
Settling in
To the space in between
One day, one struggle at a time.
Embracing the moments
Seizing the days
Girding my heart for the climb.
A few weeks back, Matt walked in to the room
and said, “Do you know how old my dad is going to be on his birthday?” I didn’t.
“Seventy-seven,” he said. That
was a light bulb moment for us.
While I know our parents are getting older, I
don’t think about it too much. We often
talk about our desire to spend more time with them and our regret at missed
opportunities. We only have two parents
left between us. We, of all people, know
the frailty of life. But we still
forget.
Last week I accompanied my mom to the
doctor. Don’t worry. No big issues. Just a desire to have a second set of
ears. But it was another moment of
clarity for me. I still think of my mom’s
age of seventy as pretty young. In fact,
the older I get, the younger her age feels to me. But there was a minute, I asked the
doctor a question and he answered, when I sort of stepped outside of myself and
looked at that interaction. Me and my
mom’s doctor talking about her. With her
in the room!
Don’t get me wrong. She was most definitely a participant in the
discussion. But something about it made
me feel old, and her feel small, to me.
And all of that has been on my mind
lately. Because I don’t like it very
much. I’m newly arrived to the parenting
scene and still adjusting. So I’m not
quite ready for my mom to be getting any older!
But alas, she is. (Don’t tell her
I used the word “older” to describe her…)
We are in an “in between” time. And I’m embracing it.
