On the Shore of Boyhood

Learning to linger in the drift between then and now.

Tonight, the house was quiet. My little was already tucked in, and my big — my almost-twelve-year-old — curled up next to me on the couch. For a moment, I caught a glimpse of his littleness again.

There was a time I thought that stage would never end — when “little” stretched in every direction, wrapping around me like fog. I couldn’t see beyond it, and I didn’t want to.

But tonight, with his lanky frame folding back into my lap, I felt time tug at me. He’s very much in boyhood now, but the shore of his manhood is already peeking over the horizon.

I used to think this would last forever. Now I find myself pleading with this vessel of life to ease off the gas — no need to rush the current or crash into the shore. Let’s just float here for a while longer.

Maybe this is what motherhood really is — learning to love the drift between the tides.

Until the next note from the field,
KB