Sometimes memories sneak out of my eyes and roll down my cheeks.
Unknown
The weather has finally taken a turn for the better in my area of the world and I could not be happier about it. I have more energy and increased motivation to get out and enjoy it. Since I am still fortunate to be working from home, I have started going for walks on my lunch. Today’s weather was the perfect reason to put in my ear buds, bypass my heavy winter coat in favour of my lighter spring one and get my steps in.
When I’m walking, I think about stuff. Random stuff. I will muse about everything from what I’m going to make for dinner, to what I need to do to prep for my next meeting to what paint colour we should pick for the bathroom. But I also make a conscious effort to take in the things around me – the trees, the grass and the other people out soaking up the first warm days after a long winter.
As I rounded the corner that would lead me to my street and back home again, I noticed something up ahead. Although it was in front of me, it felt like I was looking into a portal to the past. I saw a woman with 2 wee guys on either side of her, strolling slowly down the street. Immediately I remembered doing the same when my guys were little – walking between them, holding each of them by their sweet little hands and pointing out all the “fun-to-a-toddler” stuff – the squirrels, the mud, the sticks (so many sticks made their way home with us from walks).
As I got closer, I saw that the lady walking with the little guys was their grandma which somehow struck me even more. When our boys were little, my parents were our child care. They spent every day with our boys from age 1-6 when they went into full time school. Trust me when I say that we know how incredibly fortunate we were to have that luxury. Every day, my husband and I would go to work knowing that our kids were in the best possible hands with my mom and dad. They would even come to watch them at our house so all the boys’ stuff was there. They’d go to the park, make crafts, bake things with my mom, watch game shows with my dad, play in the yard and they’d go for walks around the neighbourhood, just like the one I observed today.
When I spotted this little Norman Rockwell moment up ahead, I quickened my pace just a little. I didn’t want to be creepy but I also felt compelled to share with her how I appreciated the blast from the past she provided me. As I got closer she noticed me and said hello. I shared that I also have twin boys who are now teenagers but that my parents would make laps around the block with them when they were the same age as her grandchildren. She asked me questions about being a twin mom and talked about how she is getting ready to welcome another grandchild to the family.
Under normal circumstances, it was a lovely conversation. Under the current circumstances where our interactions with others have been so limited, it was even better. Once we were done chatting, I told her I’d likely see her again around the neighbourhood and that if she saw a woman looking out her window at them, it would probably be me reminiscing about days that seem like yesterday and forever ago all at the same time. I let her know how much I loved seeing them out today because what started out as a quick jaunt around the block turned into a stroll down memory lane for this mama.
We had been stopped at a corner having our conversation and as it wrapped up, I found myself with a lump in my throat and missing those simpler days with my boys. I rounded the corner to head home. She crossed the street and I lost sight of them as my vision was temporarily blurred by tears. Then once I got home, I looked out the window and there they were. I had arrived home first and they were right behind me, continuing on their little neighbourhood adventure.
And I thought isn’t that a perfect metaphor – I walked the same path before them and there will be others who walk it after them. It’s a path that seemed so busy and cluttered at the time but one that I reflect on with such fondness and love. And maybe one day, when her daughter’s path feels less busy and cluttered, she will stop someone and say “I remember when my boys were small” and reflect on how fast time goes and how memories can come flooding back and spill right out of your eyes when you least expect it.
Like when you’re out on a walk and it turns into a stroll down memory lane.
