I talked about the transition yesterday. The interesting thing about that transition isn’t that it is a sudden thing. You realize as your children get older that they need you less and less. Where once they skinned their knees and ran to you, now they deal with that and move on. They, the children, begin to have lives that aren’t around you. They don’t often include you. You, as a parental unit, now return to the origin. You return to the couple that was once separate from being “mom and dad.” The things that you loved to do in the past are the things you return to now. At which the beginning of our relationship, we walked, then with kids, we walked pushing strollers.
Now we walk again, the two of us. A conversation that began years ago and was shelved. The demand for kids of family and time was greater than the ability of the conversation to continue. So you, nervously at first, but then it returns, begins that conversation again. Touching the topics that used to drive the great conversations you had years ago. What about this, or that and beyond. Suddenly you have the time again to do things that once seemed lost. Perhaps this is the weekend you wander to that winery you’ve by since the kids were young. Or that lake you’ve seen pictures of that no one wanted to drive 2 hours to see, but now, there is just the two of you and the open road.
It is a new time. I do look back to remember the years of small children. The rush of travel. The excitement of seeing the world. Of coming home and showing my partner the pictures of the world I had taken. I look at those moments wistfully. Back then, my world was travel away from home, bringing home pictures to share the world with my parents. But suddenly now again, we can travel. The kids are old enough to be left to their own devices. They no longer need direct supervision. So we suddenly now can again do things we want to do. Life is a journey, and one you learn with age, not something that is always easy, nor something that is hard. Life is a process and a collection.