Category: Lifestyle
Author: Ella Thompson
Date: June 12, 2020
My sons have grown into towering figures, their fuzzy chins and developing upper lips signaling their transformation into young men. They move with a strength and speed that feels almost overwhelming. How many times have I yearned for a time machine to revisit the days when my boys were small? I miss those moments when we spent every day together, when costumes were a common sight and our yard, a universe of mud and water from the garden hose. Back then, all it took to show them their potential was a simple cape, a snack, and a band-aid. Now, the challenges they face are far more complex.
As my oldest son approaches the final stretch of his childhood (104 days left, to be precise), the nostalgia has become almost unbearable. I’ve searched for a way to stop time, to hear their little voices again and hold their tiny hands. I wish to slow down their growth, to keep them close, as the reality is that they are moving away from me.
Did I wish too fervently? Do I possess a power I was unaware of? Was there truly a cape pinned to my shirt? Because, remarkably, it has happened. A pandemic has paused life as we knew it, catapulting us into a strange blend of nostalgia and the present. With no clear view of the future, why not simply embrace the moment and hope for the best?
As the world around us feels increasingly chaotic, our family life has reverted to the simplicity of our yard. My teenagers have stepped back from their social circles, and I find myself no longer shuttling them around constantly. The trampoline has become a daily attraction again. They’ve even rediscovered their LEGO sets and Magic The Gathering cards. For the first time in years, their brotherly bond has blossomed into true friendship, which might just be the greatest magic of all.
Dinner together has returned, and soon lunches followed suit. Without anyone realizing it, our lunches have turned into nostalgic toddler favorites: ants on a log, carrot sticks with ranch, grilled cheese sandwiches. When was the last time we shared a Tuesday lunch? It must have been during their toddler years, when they were smaller than me, with no school or rigid schedules. I’m savoring every moment – both the peanut butter and my boys.
We all enjoy sleeping in. The extra rest is delightful. However, we all share a collective dislike for online schooling. Our house resembles a chaotic mess, with makeshift setups everywhere: a bed on the porch, a bench press in the yard, a whiteboard cluttering the living room. We have essentially turned our home into one gigantic junk drawer. We miss our friends, yet not the drama. Some days bring boredom, while others creep in fear. Sadness often envelops us like an unshakable fog. We navigate through these emotions together, comforting one another in ways reminiscent of when they were younger: back scratches and comfort food, soft whispers as they cry. Yet, at times, they extend their arms around me, asking if I need anything. They willingly support me through my emotional ups and downs. As I witness their nurturing nature, I see the kindness of their father, the magic of their grandmother, and their unique grace shining through. I can envision the men they will become, and I feel immense pride. Some days, I wish to remain in this serene space forever, where I can see their reflections clearly.
Make no mistake, I still want them to experience the world outside, to travel, to learn, to run with their friends once more, howling and wild. I yearn for the world to regain its balance and keep spinning, even if it’s on a new axis.
There is much to lament over at this moment. So much that it feels overwhelming. However, when I refocus my vision – looking past the chaos, the news, the numbers, and the rumors – I find solace in my own yard, at my kitchen table on a Tuesday afternoon. I see my boys, now young men, sharing laughter about some absurd inside joke. If I squint just right, their grown hands momentarily appear small and soft again. Together, we are navigating this strange time machine, blending the past and present, and I believe that as we move forward, we will remember how to find our way back home.
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Summary:
In a heartfelt reflection, Ella Thompson shares her journey as a mother to two growing sons, grappling with nostalgia and longing for their childhood days. As a pandemic alters their lives, they find comfort in each other, rediscovering the joys of family meals and simple pleasures. Ella expresses a desire for her sons to embrace the world while cherishing their moments together, illustrating the beauty of familial bonds during tumultuous times.