I first started to write here 16 years ago, when I was 44 years old. This year I will be 60. My wonderful children have grown into beautiful adults and I continue to love them more each day.
Yet, as I write, I wonder whether I have done them a disservice. What if Suburbia hadn't given up on the 2.4 children dream. What if I had tried harder? What if I'd not laid still but instead turned over to face him? What would life have been like, what would their lives have been like?
I wallow in the selfishness of it all.
I have reinvented myself several times over those last 16 years. And the best times of all, for me, happened when it was just the three of us living on a shoestring. Just me and my precious babies. I miss that time, I so wish it could have lasted for longer, forever even. I'm not sure if the children would say the same.
It feels like yesterday and in some ways like it never happened at all. I still feel 44! And I am still searching. Life feels more serious and I wish I laughed more both then and now.
It was Mothers Day recently and Small Sprog came over to cook a curry for me. It was fab and a mini miracle that he would want to do that for his mum. He is 24 now and he still melts my heart.
Tall Girl and I walk regularly, I feel safe with her. I am so grateful that she takes time for me.
She's nearly the age I was when I first met her dad.
I wish I had loved them all more fiercely.
On a lighter note, Tall Girl mentioned to me that when she returned to her home the other day (where she lives with her partner and violent cat), hoping for a long hot bath, she opened the bathroom door to find the bathtub was full of shoes that belonged to her partner! Not only that but he was (interestingly) 'washing' them with their potato masher! She seemed mostly nonplused, though miffed that her bathtub was already taken. It seemed that what concerned her the most was whether he was using the 'best' masher or the old one!
Hearing her story reminded me of what I used to write here. Of stories that would be lost to me had I not written them down. So here I am at midnight - somethings never change - re reading our lives; it's the small moments -from Suburbia- that make up the most wonderful and vibrant life. I'm not sure I will live any brighter now, life and work seem loaded with heavy emotions and the post Covid world seems so much more grey and dull than before. But as she told me the story the tears ran down my face. Who wouldn't want to belly laugh again after what seems like such a long time...
With love from Suburbia x
