When i became a mother i also became aware of time. How quickly it passes. How once it’s gone you can never get it back. That you don’t know how much of it you’ve got.
You look at your baby and they are a constant reminder. Forever changing. Growing bigger every day. Learning new things. Walking. Talking. Thinking. So clever. So quickly.
I suppose it’s about understanding your own mortality for the very first time.
I remember when i was a teenager existential thoughts were easily dismissed “Well i can’t do anything about that, so i might as well live for the moment”. It just felt so far away. So intangible.
I threw myself out of aeroplanes with abandon. Experimented. Invincible.
Then a baby comes along, and time doesn’t seem to pass so slowly anymore. The end isn’t quite as far away as you thought. You become more nervous. More vunerable. You have so much more to protect.
Memory is fragile. You only really remember your children as they are now. You struggle to picture them as a baby. Remember them toddling. Recollect their first word.
You never take enough photographs. Never capture the moments you really wish you had.
I grieve for time like a lost friend.
And where once you were at the centre of things. You’re now on the outskirts looking in. At your children. The New Generation.
And time keeps passing. Ever more quickly.
(Thank you to the ever wonderful Deerbaby and her gorgeous post Kind of Blue for the inspiration.)