I look in the mirror and see lines and wrinkles. My birthday is fast approaching, which tells me I’m another year older. Yet as I type this I feel as young as I did in my twenties.
However I am not the same person I was back then, nor am I the same mother.
During the week I read an online discussion about the rights and wrongs of carrying children’s school bags to school for them. Many were of the opinion that children should carry them themselves and I nodded…for once upon a time I was that mum. I thought it would make my children independent and responsible, help them realise I wasn’t a doormat. Maybe it worked because my eldest carried her bags every day and is now a responsible independent adult? But then again I don’t think my youngest ever did, yet she too is a responsible independent girl.
So was I wrong or right? And with which child?
That’s the thing, looking back I don’t think there is a right and wrong. With time my thinking has changed and I’ve become a more mellow mother than I was in my early twenties. This morning I saw a father, laden with school bags, bring his girls to school. As I watched him chat and the girls skip along beside him, my mind wandered back to my own dad who is thirty years dead this year. I have wonderful memories of him loving and caring for and about me. As my mind wandered back in time, for a moment I missed my dad so much. What I would have given to have him carry my bag once more.
I wonder what the young girls I watched today will remember in years to come of their journey’s to school. Will it be how independent and responsible they were at a young age, or will they remember their dads carrying their bags as they skipped along? Or neither, perhaps it is only an important memory to us, their parents?
It set my mind to thinking of my own children’s school days. If I had my time over again I know they would not carry their schoolbags. Not because I don’t think they should, but because given half a chance I’d love to once more walk the road to school, watching them run, skip and chat freely.
Schooldays are almost over in our house leaving no more opportunities to help carry bags, but I do hope they know that in the years ahead, when the going gets tough, that their dad and I will always be there to help carry their bags in life.
My thoughts on a page. 
This touches where it matters, Tric. I’ve definitely mellowed with the years. What matters is love, with respect taught as an integral part of that. Sometimes it will be necessary for lessons to be learned and love that knows that will see to it. I’ve never been one to judge particularly (too scared I’ll be judged in return!) but I have even less inclination to do so now. Live and let live.(Except for idiot politicians, Brexit supporters, Trump supporters, feckin’ eejits generally and anyone that looks at a mum and thinks they can do better under the same circumstances!)
I’d give a lot for another day with my dad and mum. Different relationships with both but the thought of what you describe – skipping along beside them like a young lass again – holds great appeal. Who carries the bags seems unimportant so long as you get to hold hands with them again.
You have a lovely way, Tric, with taking an ordinary situation and making thought and emotions flow. And a wee tear or two.x
Thanks a mil.
I think I’m more inclined to seeing these moments as I get older.
It is good you don’t judge. I enjoyed your list. 😄
That was so beautiful, Tric
Thanks Michele. I’m pleased you like it.
Aww you’re a good mom Tric. Happy early birthday! ❤
Diana xo
Thanks.
This is so thoughtful and beautiful! I think I really needed to read these words today. Thank you! ❤
Thank you. I hope they helped.
Ah, tric, a poignant turn mid-post I didn’t see coming. Give me pause for thought, too.
Beth’s comment after yours brought it home to me that it is the life long memories for me these days leave that realty matter. Long after my children have forgotten them.
Must have been the wine!
beautiful, tric. beautiful memories. and i look back at my approach as ‘trial and error’ and i always see it as them growing up no matter what i did or didn’t do, no right or wrong way i think. just do your best –
Indeed Beth and as you pointed out these moments left us with a lifetime of beautiful memories.
I genuinely thought this was going to be about the weight of books. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but it’s lovely that it wasn’t.
I would be delighted to think the only thing predictable about my blog or writing is it’s unpredictability. Hope you weren’t too disappointed not to be joining a lively debate on the weight of school bags?
Well, it is my most favourite topic. But you evaded it so beautifully.