What’s happened to the dark 6am morning? It seems like magic that one day it was pitch and the next, I’m greeted with brightness as I open my front door.
It’s a gloomy old day today, thankfully not raining but the sky is smudged a dirty light grey. A few birds have ventured out, not much birdsong today though. Perhaps they’re like me and having trouble get their tail feathers moving.
Fridays are always quiet at the bus stop. Since COVID this is a most popular work from home day. I like my Fridays in the city office. It’s the end of the week, whether it’s Friday night drinks or put your feet up in front of the tele, it’s a day to celebrate.
I was worried that working from home would see me getting sidetracked with dish washing and sweeping the floors (because I love those activities so much), it isn’t the case though. I actually get so much accomplished, no distractions, head down bum up. And I must say, it’s nice at the end of the day to just log off and without any preamble, I’m home sitting on the couch.
COVID did a lot of damage. Not only did it take people’s lives, isolate the elderly, the infirmed, separate family and loved ones, it robbed the young of interaction with their peers and now it’s the norm for friendships to be formed and maintained online. Gosh times have changed.
When I was a kid, we roamed the streets from dawn till dusk, riding our bikes, exploring amongst the boulders by the river, hanging out with friends. The youth of today are missing out on so much.
I know, the world has changed since my days of being a young whipper snapper, we need to be vigilant, gone are the days of freedom to roam.
Boundaries and consequences. They need to learn these. Give them responsibilities, they too should contribute to the household, whatever that may look like. Small kids, small chores, praise for a job well done (even if it isn’t done well) we all like to feel our contribution is important.
I miss the days of my boys building mud pies, splashing in puddles, cubbies made of blankets pulled from beds, taking them for walks around our neighbourhood, chatting about what we saw, the names of plants and the colour of flowers, their inquisitive questioning. And, the bedtime stories, I miss them most. The snuggling with two sparkling clean, pyjama-clad little fellows, one on either side, my heart. My precious boys who now are men, beloved fathers with children of their own.
Beware, time passes in the blink of an eye, the beat of a heart. . . Please, make the most of yours.
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