As my oldest son, Liam, approaches his 11th birthday next week, I find myself grappling with a whirlwind of emotions. It’s not just the typical pre-teen transition to junior high that has me concerned. Sure, I’m navigating the ups and downs of his changing moods and the unfortunate decline in personal hygiene, but that’s all part of the expected journey. What truly worries me is the sobering realization of time.
Recently, while chatting with a fellow parent at church whose son is about to turn 14, I was struck by his words. He’s currently finishing his PhD, but he decided to pause his dissertation to focus on spending time with his son. “I only have four years left with him at home,” he said. “I can’t let this time slip away.”
It made me reflect on my own situation. I work at a university and had considered pursuing a doctorate for career advancement. However, when I did the math, it hit me hard: in just seven short years, Liam will be off to college. This realization forces me to confront how swiftly the past 11 years have flown by.
It reminds me of a poignant line from the movie Field of Dreams. In the film, Ray Kinsella, played by Kevin Costner, creates a baseball field on his farm, allowing deceased baseball legends to play once more. There’s a moment when a character reflects on missed opportunities, stating that we often don’t recognize the most significant moments in our lives as they unfold. I find myself grappling with similar sentiments.
While I may not have experienced a dramatic turning point, the past 11 years with Liam have felt fleeting. It seems like only yesterday he was a tiny bundle resting in the crook of my arm, or the little boy eager to snuggle up for storytime about playful monsters. It feels like just a moment ago when he could still be carried easily or was shy about showing affection in front of his friends.
As I reminisce about those early years, they seem to pass by as quickly as a stranger brushing past me in a crowded street. I remember the day he came home from the hospital; I was just 24, gazing at his small frame in the crib, fully aware that my life was about to change forever.
Becoming a father reshaped my entire existence, and now, it feels like his childhood is racing towards its conclusion. While I have two younger children, there’s an undeniable bond with my oldest. Liam was the first to introduce me to the chaos and joy of parenthood, and just when I feel like I’ve grasped who he is, he evolves into someone new. Then, just like that—POOF!—I’m left wondering if I’ve made the most of our time together.
The thought of him leaving for college looms over me like a cliff. I know our relationship will continue beyond our home, but if the next seven years go by as quickly as the last eleven, I feel a pressing urgency to maximize our time together. I want to pause my own life as much as possible to cherish these moments.
Yet, I can’t help but think he might not share the same sentiment. As we dive deeper into his teenage years, there’s a good chance we’ll both find ourselves needing space. But for now, I intend to make the most of our remaining time together.
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In summary, as I navigate the bittersweet reality of my son growing up, I find myself reflecting on the fleeting nature of time and the urgency to make every moment count.