French Mum, humanitarian, restless explorer and doer on sabbatical in Cebu (Philippines): one Attila in each arm, I am exploring the “toddlers safe” corners of the region, while trying to keep some room for Me.
Today’s prompt: Salad Days
I had motherhood all figured out. Then I had children. Since then, it has all been learning about strengths I did not know I had and fears I did not know existed.
« you’ll understand when you’ll have children on your own » would be my Mum’s ultimate answers to my constant « why ». Why do you always need to know with who I am at night? why do I always have to call you when I am on a school trip? why can’t I spend the WE with those great people ( that I would have met only a few hours ago)? Why can’t wear anything I fancy?
Now that I have children on my own, not only I realize I that I tend to talk like my Mum. But even scarier, I sometimes turn into the cliché of the Jewish mother! so hyper protective, so worried for nothing..
Sometimes when I feel overwhelmed by the responsibilities, when I miss my unbearable lightness of being, I dwell in the old times…
But it is never the times I miss, it’s the people I had the privilege to meet. I would open the treasure chest of my childhood and wear a bracelet from my cherished Mamie Juliette, hold the lighter of Papy Gaston.. I would have loved them to meet with my bunch of crazies, no doubt they would have adored each other.
Deep into the box, I can also hear the contagious laughter of all my crazy cousins at my other grand ma’ house. Put on the old record and you ll see me and my best friend dancing like two possessed monkeys and fantasizing about “when we’ll grow up and meet Mr Right”.
See those white cubes with the Red Cross labels? They all contain smiles of wonderful people, a bit of red sand, a muddy badge. Vintage stuff, years BC (Before Children).
When I dig into my precious souvenirs, I don’t even try to pull off the tiny little sadness that stick to it. I let it be and witness its magical transformation, as it fades into a little light of gratitude in my heart. I feel so blessed, so happy for all the great moments and the special people who inspired me to become the woman I am now.
A little trip to the treasure chest always cheers me up, eventually. Because my most precious treasures ever are the ones who live with me, the ones who give me those grey hairs and justify all the caffeine. My little Zen masters. The good times can not be old. The good times are now 🙂
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