Isaiah turned eight last week. Jason and I both felt a strong melancholy as we talked about it and prepared for his big day. It was all the usual “How can our baby be eight?” and “How can eight years have passed already?” but more so I think it was, “How can we only have ten years left with this guy at home?” A decade used to feel so long and it still does, I guess, but the older I get, the shorter it seems.
When we were in Mexico earlier this year I saw two couples walk into a restaurant together. We were sitting with the boys, waiting for our food, watching a tiny, small town parade roll down the street outside. The couples looked to be in their mid-late fifties and as they sat down at a table nearby, I considered them and wondered about who they were. And I was struck with the notion that I was looking at Jason and myself in the future. In the not-so-distant future, we will likely be traveling without the boys. We might be on a trip like this with friends, or other family, while our boys are off living their own adventures. And while traveling with friends or just the two of us will be wonderful, I’m certain, in that moment — at our favorite restaurant in Los Barriles, our boys jumping up and down trying to catch the candy that was being thrown into the crowd — it felt unbearable.
This morning was a hot mess of getting-out-the-door drama. One kid lost screen time, both parents lost their cool, and our brand new eight-year-old stomped out the door in tears. So it ain’t all roses and sunshine up in here but even so, it’s a wide open beautiful life and I’m so glad we have these two boys to live it with – even if only for a few short decades.