Those evenings when your 12-year old still wants to cuddle up to you and listen as you read books to his younger brother. Even though at 12 he has your shoe size and when you look at him you see the adult he soon will be. Even though the books are Dirty Bertie or anything by David Walliams. He still laughs at your Raj accent and all the other voices to give to other characters, cuddles up nice and close, and wants you to scratch his head or his legs.
Those times when you walk your kids to school and talk about the world and the space. And sometimes puberty and politics and computer games for good measure too. Those moments when nobody is arguing or kicking each other or moaning and you see your kids as people. People who are from you but are not you. People who are their own people. People who grow up and do their own thing.
At those times you can’t help but think of the present moment as a memory. You are living it but you know a moment from now, a day from now, a year, a decade from now, this will be a memory.
You try to soak it in more, to make sure the memory will be strong and vivid. You try to hit ‘pause’, you try to hit ‘record’, you try to hold on to the moment you know is fleeting because moments are, and life is and the days can sometimes seem so long but when you lie down at night you feel like your world is spinning around you, spinning so fast into the past you want to scream for it to stop already.
You remember the summers when you were little. Those summers lasted forever.
No summer lasts forever now.
Your firstborn, who kept you from sleeping more than 2 hours at a time for the first year of his life and you’re still recovering from what that did to you, is a year away from being a teenager.
I can’t decide if this present-moment-nostalgia a good way to live or not. In a way it makes you more aware of the present, lets you be in the moment and not just let the good times pass you buy. On the other hand it makes you feel so lost and vulnerable because you FEEL, you actually physically ache in feeling time rushing by and you just want. it. to. stop.
There are so many good moments in every day but you can’t hit pause.
You’re left raging against time, knowing that you can’t win.
For me this present-moment-nostalgia doesn’t even only concern home life and my kids right now. Because of Brexit it concerns my work as well. Things are going to change drastically for everyone in the next 2 years and there are so many times during the day when I laugh with my team in meetings or over coffee that I think “I’m really going to miss these guys… I’m going to miss this place… It’s been a great gig…”
Being in the moment, yet missing the moment as you’re in it.
I guess nobody ever said life is supposed to make sense…