The other day a thought occurs to me:
‘I have kids.’
No shit Sherlock.
Bare in mind this is not uttered as a statement of fact so much as it is a marveling of this reality. And not just ‘I have kids’ but ‘I have kids‘. My babies, though always my babies, are just not babies anymore.
Does this happen to you? These profound moments of acceptance? Acknowledging the obvious more deeply?
All my life people have commented on my eyes. “Wow, you have beautiful blue eyes!”
“Are those your real eye colour?”
“Your eyes look like the ocean meeting the sky…” (drunk guys at the bar usually)
Then one day I am in a public restroom with funky mirrors and I catch the most gorgeous blue eyes in the reflection. Curious as to whose they were, I am shocked to find they are mine. “Woa, I have blue eyes.”
Obvious gone deeper.
But I digress.
I have kids.
This thought shouts and whispers and envelops my soul all because I am sitting there watching my kids bike.
Yes, bike. A simple, everyday occurence the world over. Only today, here for me now, seemingly the most miraculous thing in the world.
Part of me admonishes myself. It’s just a bike. Of course they’re learning. Most kids do. It’s not that big of a deal.
But I can’t help feeling like it is. For them. For me.
Her mother- me- squealing in delight, giddy with pride. The moment feeling big. No, huge.
No, immense. Like our smiles.
Both girls soaring. Moving away from me. Free.
“I can do it myself!” in words and in actions. Causing me to simultaneously mourn and celebrate their blossoming independence.
Watching them bike, in this moment, is not just about the biking then. It’s about the growing.
Michael Palin, a man who has seemingly been there, done everything has said,
“One of the most important days of my life was when I learned to ride a bicycle.”
My girls ride bikes.
Taking a moment to take this in, accepting this truth.
The obvious gone deeper.