Five years ago, this was me:
![]() |
With a handsome dance partner |
I have mixed feelings about pictures of myself
in the recent past. They remind me of how much older I’ve become. Everything’s a little slower, a little lower. I’m weaker physically. Just a little bit.
No matter that I was up until 2 am with a sick
child the other night, which throws everything off.
Plus, I’m coming off of a terrible week-long cold. My eyes sport shadows they didn’t in recent
years. My body has shifted and shrunk,
yet in some places it has thickened. It seems the
years have multiplied.
Moreover, my mind is settling, a sobering fact on its own. I don’t actually mind that part too much. I feel better about my place in the world.
People talk all the time about how old they
are, how old they feel. “I’m too old for
this,” they say. I used to dismiss this
line of thinking. How dare they say
that! Buck up and live your life, for
goodness’ sake. You only have one
life. You want to live it as an old
person? How drab. How sad.
“I’m old enough to know better not to walk
outside in the freezing cold,” I heard myself say to my neighbor the other
day. It was 15 degrees outside. We’ve walked together every weekday morning
for several years now, barring vacations, illness, and heavy
precipitation. Five years ago I might
have tried to convince my friend to join me in chancing ice and snow on the
sidewalks; now a wind gust or two sends me back to the warmth of my slippers
and coffee.
Five years ago.
A lifetime.
A minute.
I was in the thick of Mommy-ing, our kids 9 and
7. It was just a few years ago, but
pictures and videos suggest otherwise.
It was a lifetime ago. Ballet and
Christmas pageants and Little League, orchestrating playdates and helping to
choose clothes and tie shoes and practice spelling words and figure out math
problems. Packing lunches and drying
tears and refereeing fights and clean up those toys now and let's have a dance
party in the living room. Five years
ago there were bedtime stories at 8:30.
Five years ago I was running out the door for
Moms Nights Out, my girlfriend squealing her tires in the driveway as we sped
away shrieking into the night. Five
years ago a friend whose children were in college said to me “When they leave,
it all ends amazingly.” I nodded, but couldn’t
understand. I didn't care; I needed to get out once in a while.
If I could, I would grab my five years ago self
by the arm and say “Sit next to me; closer, now. I want to show you something. I want to tell you something.” And I’d show my five years ago self the
following picture:
That’s me, today. Tired because I was up until 2 am the night before with a sick
preteen who doesn’t need Mommy to give her medicine and to fill up the
vaporizer anymore; instead, she needs Mom to teach her how to take care of
herself when she gets a cold.
Me, with the short haircut that I wanted back
then but had been too afraid of cutting it again after the haircut debacle of
’02. And ’03, if we’re keeping
track.
Me with no makeup, sitting in an office chair
because my life contains more planning and logistics and less cleaning and
picking up after. More sitting but less
angst about it. More aches and pains,
but also less late nights “doing” after the kids go to bed. More early nights and mornings and less
feeling out of place for preferring them.
More real conversations, uninterrupted.
More knowing what healthy relationships look like. More knowing how to achieve them.
More me time.
All the me time.
That’s me in five years. More content, serene. Older.
Wiser.
I’m not sure that my five years ago self would
understand. Sometimes a person needs to
experience it for themselves.
Five years of life is a lot of years of
change. It shows in every way on our
bodies and in our hearts. So much
happens in five years. Children grow
into the people they will become; loved ones grow older and some are gone;
cherished relationships end and new ones begin.
Bodies shift, shrink, and thicken; as eyes and hearing fade, emotions
and feelings stretch and lengthen. Minds
settle into patterns of thinking. In
many ways we weaken, but in others, we are so much stronger.
As soon as you look up, five years are
gone. Everything you know today will end
amazingly.
A lifetime.
A minute.
*****
This post inspired by:
Mama Kat's Writing Workshop
Prompt #5: If you could have given yourself a snapshot
five years ago of what your life is like now, what would the picture be of and
how do you think you would have felt about it?
I get it...instead of the "firsts" that we celebrate, I seem to start mourning the "lasts".
ReplyDeleteThat's such a true yet somber thought. I watched a bunch of videos of my kids from around 5 years ago and couldn't believe all that they've grown out of in such a short time. I always seem to miss the "lasts."
DeleteWow. This was beautifully written! Makes me want to remind myself to slow down a bit and take it all in every once and a while because your right, 5 yrs can change a lot of stuff. Even in the last 3 my life has been drastically changed, I don't think I would even recognize myself if I gave my self from 5 yrs ago a picture of me now and told them all that I do, etc.
ReplyDeleteIt is amazing how life changes from one point in time to the next. While it's happening, we don't see it at all.
DeleteI love this! My 5 years ago self wouldn't believe me if I told her my life today. Older and wiser is a very good thing. Stopping by from Mama Kats :-). I like your blog!
ReplyDeleteI imagine mine would be starry eyed and wishing for time to speed up if I told here that there would be fewer tasks to do... Thanks for stopping by!
DeleteBeautifully said. Truth. Right there on the page!
ReplyDeleteThank you, May! xo
DeleteI want to see a picture of you and your son note. :) You look better than ever but I hear what you're saying.
ReplyDelete*now not note. Sheesh.
DeleteI get it. Pics of us with our kids are always too few! Maybe I'll torture him with a mom-and-son selfie session very soon. :)
DeleteYou're just perfect, did you know that? :-)
ReplyDeleteI'm confused by the earlier picture, and what looks like a sparkly mitten sticking out of your book. What is it?
You are kind. Thank you, friend. That is indeed a sparkly mitten coming out of my boob. Or some sort of school equipment in the background. I don't know. ;)
DeleteYou're in my head again! I was just telling Laina TODAY "can you believe 5 years ago your were only 5 and in just 5 years you will be FIFTEEN!?!" It's unreal how much growth and change happens in 5 years. Right now I'm in tween/big kid time and I absolutely cannot wrap my mind around teens who think they don't need me. What will it be like to live in a house with them? Do I really want to know?? I loved this!
ReplyDeleteHaving teens is sort of heartbreaking (they are leaving SO SOON! Only five years ago I was telling friends that our 9yo was "half-baked"), but also very freeing. My husband and I left the other day without telling our son where we were going. He texted us "Where are you guys?" It didn't even dawn on us to let him know. THIS is where we are, now.
DeleteWow girl, love your words and reflections here! In 5 years my baby will be 11. That's crazy to even think about. It will go by a lot faster than I think it will. I know the last 5 did...
ReplyDeleteHow I hate saying "It goes by SO FAST!" It is every old mom's punchline. But it is so true...
Delete