The passing of time

The summer is slowly disappearing from view leaving behind it as always an unfinished to do list of wishes and aspirations. Our summer was broken into three parts. We travelled to Spain. We are quite a tight unit and although G played with other children and we chatted occasionally to other parents, we generally kept it very much about the two of us. We hung out in old towns, sought out local communities, swam a lot, drew a lot and read a lot whilst laughing our way around the local area.

Stage two of our summer holiday was spent supporting my mother through her hip operation. The operation was a success but recovery takes a long time. Things have changed for now. There is a slowness to our house, our movements and our activity are more considered. Stage three involves any remaining summer fun where possible coupled with preparation for a new term at school. Six weeks feel hardly enough time to gather oneself before a new academic year begins.

But this year the passing of time has played on my mind. Three generations living under one roof, each requiring care and support for sometimes the same but different things. We mark out the seasons with a little poem or book or a collection of found objects. We move furniture to accommodate changing weather and seasons. Time passing.

Our final activity towards the end of the summer holidays is to work through all of G’s toys and clothes, discussing and discarding what is no longer needed or wanted. She is at an age now where she is able to laugh at herself and her 43 soft toys and objects which hold much desire. She is happy to make room and pass on some of these items to others. A building block with the trace of teeth marks, a first doll with all of its ragged appeal and remaining twirls of hair or a makeshift toy with re-purposed parts from broken bits of wood. All moved to feature in another story.

Another year and we have completed this task. G is marking out her height on the wall. A new uniform is ready, shoes bought and preparations are in place to ensure that the first day of JUNIOR school is smooth. And so, we watch the aging process in my house. I watch the passing of time with my daughter and my parents at either end with myself sandwiched in the middle. The passing of time. The change of seasons.

Back to work, back to a new season, back to the future. Off we go people.


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