Every year, the first few falling leaves catch me by surprise. ‘Summer can’t be over yet,’ I think. ‘Get back on those trees! It’s not even September. Starbucks isn’t even serving pumpkin yet!’
Pandemic or no pandemic, time keep passing. My children grow older, whether I squeeze every drop out of their childhood or not.
Those falling leaves represent this stage of my life slipping away. Living with young children is not all fun. I am lucky to be able to build a career and a young family at the same time. I understand that some women are constrained to choose one or the other.
If I did stay home with my kids full-time, then I would experience a greater total number of their precious moments. Those precious moments feel like the best of life. On the other hand, I imagine that when they inevitably grow up and away from me, the separation might be even more painful if I had been a stay at home mom. The leaves do not take sides in this debate. A few leaves drop in August. No matter how you spent your summer, it’s over.