He Has My Life

Roughly nine years ago this was me.


A warm summer afternoon.  Stretched out on the front porch, a couple of pillows under my head, a good book in my hands and nothing else in front of my eyes.

Not much could disturb me, and I would move only to turn a page or reach for the lemonade perched to my right on the table.

Today this kind of decadence is not possible.  Though I can sit, now more than ever, I can’t luxuriate uninterruptedly for hours on these cushions, in that breeze.  Laundry needs to be done, floors need to be vacuumed.  Children need to be watched and cared for.

But he can–for now.  And he should.

He has what was my life.  What will be my life again all too soon.


3 thoughts on “He Has My Life

  1. Once a parent, always a parent.
    Though you may be separated from choices of a segment of your life–to which you may return in due time–the interruptions that prevent the choices of that segment may be chores, may be routine, may be a less worthy use of time, those experiences add an unparalleled dimension to life, that make the rare occasions of returning to them brief, but carry the Remembrance of Things Past, and a future you will meet with wisdom only children can teach.

  2. Yes. Whenever one of my kids yells ‘Watch me!’ it floods me with the thoughts of yelling the same thing at my mom. How amazing to see our lives go from that of the watched, to the watchers.

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