My son is 15(!) and all I can think about is how little time we have left with him, before he launches into the world. How after a strange pause, for the last decade and 1/2, my husband and I now have time for us, like when we were in our 20s. And yet, there's so much living to be done . The genius of the "and".
Apr 19, 2022·edited Apr 19, 2022Liked by Katie Hawkins-Gaar
I so can relate to this, Katie. I think about it almost every day with my son, who's 8 1/2 now. We just celebrated Easter, and I wonder how long he'll *really* believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa the way he has this past year. The end surely isn't far off, and these times really are magical. I got married at 41 and had children for the first time at 42, and in a very real way, it's been like being born for a second time into an entirely new life. And I don't want the magic to stop! I know, of course, it will at some point -- my stepdaughter is a junior in high school now, and so will be getting ready for college a year from now -- but I feel what you've written above, so much.
There's an old interview Willie Nelson gave when he said something that's obvious, but contains a deeper truth when you think about it: that all we have is right now. Yesterday really is gone -- our memories remain, of course; and we're not promised tomorrow. He said, "I think all we have is right now. You know, we don’t have yesterday, we don’t have tomorrow. All we have is this moment — we don’t have ‘after a while,’ we just have now." Tomorrow will come, but we don't have it in our grasp yet.
When I think about that, I think about how finite our lives really are, how imperfect they are, how they're often way too short. That's why I take like THOUSANDS of pictures with my phone, b/c my memory is so bad!!!! Then I go back and look at them -- all the time, I do -- and I get to re-live them. It's almost like the re-living them in our memory, we get to experience them in a way that we didn't when they were actually happening in real time. We probably don't appreciate the current moment as much as we do when we look back with affection.
Okay, I've rambled on enough and I'm probably not making sense... just wanted you to know I thought it was a lovely, beautiful essay.
Terrell, I love this so much. Our circumstances are different, but I understand feeling like you’ve been born into another life. It’s a surreal experience and one you don’t take for granted!
I loved this piece Katie. Around mid-way through I could feel tears welling in my eyes. A beautiful, touching piece. I shall be forwarding this to my partner! I think he'll love it too. ❤️
Gosh, this hit home for me. My daughter also turns 2 in the fall and will start preschool. I relate so much to what you wrote, and I'm so emotional about it! Thanks for this beautiful essay.
My son is 15(!) and all I can think about is how little time we have left with him, before he launches into the world. How after a strange pause, for the last decade and 1/2, my husband and I now have time for us, like when we were in our 20s. And yet, there's so much living to be done . The genius of the "and".
“Yes, and” indeed! Enjoy this precious time with your son and your newfound freedom!
I so can relate to this, Katie. I think about it almost every day with my son, who's 8 1/2 now. We just celebrated Easter, and I wonder how long he'll *really* believe in the Easter Bunny and Santa the way he has this past year. The end surely isn't far off, and these times really are magical. I got married at 41 and had children for the first time at 42, and in a very real way, it's been like being born for a second time into an entirely new life. And I don't want the magic to stop! I know, of course, it will at some point -- my stepdaughter is a junior in high school now, and so will be getting ready for college a year from now -- but I feel what you've written above, so much.
There's an old interview Willie Nelson gave when he said something that's obvious, but contains a deeper truth when you think about it: that all we have is right now. Yesterday really is gone -- our memories remain, of course; and we're not promised tomorrow. He said, "I think all we have is right now. You know, we don’t have yesterday, we don’t have tomorrow. All we have is this moment — we don’t have ‘after a while,’ we just have now." Tomorrow will come, but we don't have it in our grasp yet.
When I think about that, I think about how finite our lives really are, how imperfect they are, how they're often way too short. That's why I take like THOUSANDS of pictures with my phone, b/c my memory is so bad!!!! Then I go back and look at them -- all the time, I do -- and I get to re-live them. It's almost like the re-living them in our memory, we get to experience them in a way that we didn't when they were actually happening in real time. We probably don't appreciate the current moment as much as we do when we look back with affection.
Okay, I've rambled on enough and I'm probably not making sense... just wanted you to know I thought it was a lovely, beautiful essay.
Terrell, I love this so much. Our circumstances are different, but I understand feeling like you’ve been born into another life. It’s a surreal experience and one you don’t take for granted!
I loved this piece Katie. Around mid-way through I could feel tears welling in my eyes. A beautiful, touching piece. I shall be forwarding this to my partner! I think he'll love it too. ❤️
Aw Val, that means so much!! Thank you ❤️
And my partner did love it too! :)
Beautiful piece 🙏
Thanks, Zach!
Gosh, this hit home for me. My daughter also turns 2 in the fall and will start preschool. I relate so much to what you wrote, and I'm so emotional about it! Thanks for this beautiful essay.
It’s amazing we’re on such similar paths. Thanks, Monica!
Thank you for another thoughtful piece 🥳🙏🏾
Thank YOU for reading!