It is late. Small Sprog has been chastised for whinging on about opening the present he knows is waiting for him at home. He has spent the whole day at his grannys whinging about going home to open it. Even when we sit in the park; in the beautiful warm sunshine, which has been much too long coming this spring, and eat his favourite ice lolly, he is whinging.
"Remember the words of the song" I say to him "About living for today because you never know what's going to happen tomorrow?" We have had this talk before, I want them to learn what it has taken me so long to realise. Living for the moment, enjoying each minute. Although, now I come to think of it, I have not been that good at it over this last week myself. He nods soberly and licks his multicoloured lolly.
As I am saying the words I realise myself how precious that moment is. Both my children with me happily eating ice cream, Mum at my side doing the same. A sunny day, no work, no school, health and happiness. I look at Mum. She has slowed recently, she does too much some days, it takes it out of her, and she worries for me too, I know that doesn't help. She is a precious constant in my life, though we grumble about each other on occasions. One day we will not be us 4, but I can't say that to Small Sprog now as he jolts me out of my melancholy with "Can we go home now!"
Sleepily, in the back of the car, Small Sprog mutters one more thing about his waiting gift before we arrive home. "Do you know what my best present would be?"
"No" I reply, equally weary.
"A happy family"
"Mummy and Daddy together you mean?"
"Yes" says Small Sprog
He will never get that present now. Hoping is a very sad thing on occasions.