Club Sandwich

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.

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.