We're a family on the cusp of things, that's how it feels at the moment. I'm very aware of growing up...
It feels ridiculous that Eldest is now in, what we oldies used to call, the Upper Sixth; that Middle One has started studying for his GCSEs, even sillier that Youngest is at secondary school. And while he is still adorable and loving and sweet and childlike, with his cuddly toys and his Bin Weevil figures and the little songs he sings to himself when he's absorbed with playing, starting secondary school signals the beginning of the end of all that. And then there's the UCAS form...
The UCAS form denotes the beginning of another even more final end: the end of Eldest living with us. It's the form he must fill in to apply to university and it means that, if he is offered a place somewhere, this time next year, he'll be gone.
Gone. Over. Finished. That's it. If anything represents an ending, the loss of the little boy we once had, that will be it. I know it's cliched and hackneyed all rolled into one to say it, but it really does go amazingly fast.
And what of me? What am I on the cusp of? Well, there's life without primary school, of course, which is proving extremely busy, so much so that not the slightest backward glance has been required, but there are other things I feel I might be on the cusp of. Things that are harder to shrug off...
When I pick up a book or a newspaper my eyes no longer do what they used to. I can't see the print. I reach for the plus 1.5 glasses, I look up at my children to answer them, and realise I am peering over the top, just like my mother does to me.
Losing my sight, this is the very first irrefutable sign that things are dying off, for good. They will never come back, those eye cells, and no doubt the odd brain cell as well...
So that's me on the cusp something un-nameable, Youngest on the cusp of adolescence, Middle One on the cusp of manhood, Eldest on the cusp of leaving...
Oh, and on the plus side we're on the cusp of having a new kitchen...
I hope.
Love E x
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Kingfishers chase their young away from the nest at this time of year, so that the adults can keep their patch and the youngsters establish themselves in new territory. All part of Life's cycle.
ReplyDeleteThe swallows around here are gathering in huge, chattering flocks, chasing down the last flies at ankle height, fattening themselves for a perilous pilgrimage to the Austral summer.
But the sloes are fantastic, they shall soak in gin over winter.