"This is what I'll remember" – a beautiful reminder of what our children actually need from us now
Right now, we are parenting through some seriously unprecedented weeks.
If you had asked any of us a mere few weeks or months back, I think it would have been impossible to imagine the world as it currently is.
And if you are feeling all the feels, mama – know that we all are. None of us knows how to handle this. What is making this deeply uncertain and scary time worse to so many of us, I think, is that on top of just managing ourselves and our emotions in all of this, we are also constantly worrying about how this situation is affecting our children. What being cut off from friends, teachers, grandparents, ballet classes, football, birthday parties is possibly doing to them.
You know, on top of worrying over current routines – or lack thereof. Or schoolwork. Or one-one-one attention in the midst of handling working from home and this unfolding global crisis.
However, I think sometimes, as parents, we over-estimate how much it takes to keep our children happy. To entertain them. To make them feel good.
I recently came across this poem over at The Motherhood Project, and it just summed it up so beautifully. How really, the only thing that matters to our children is our time. And our love. Everything else is secondary. At the end of the day, this, mama, this is what your children will remember. Even about these very strange and different days.
I don’t remember if our house was big or small or if we rented or owned.
I don’t remember if you had a fancy car, or if we had to take the bus.
I don’t remember if the house was clean and tidy or if it was covered in washing piles and scattered toys.
I don’t remember if my pram was new or second hand or if I had the latest new toy or designer clothes.
I don’t remember if you were dressed up or if your face was bare, it always looked perfect to me.
I don’t remember if you had a lot of money or whether you lived pay check to pay check.
I don’t remember if we went out every day or went on expensive holidays.
I don’t remember how sometimes you got angry or cried or had to walk out of the room to take a breath.
I don’t remember a schedule, a check list or any expectations other than just you.
What I do remember is feeling safe.
I remember your comfort and how you kept me warm.
I remember your face above me when I cried for you.
I remember you would feed me when I was hungry, or tired or in pain.
I remember your smell and how it would send me off to sleep, sometimes at 2:00am, then again at 4:00am.
I remember your smile, it was the first reason I smiled.
I remember how you played with me and got down on the ground with me, before I could get up.
I remember you taught me about love before anything else and how it was my constant.
I remember knowing it was the only thing I ever really needed and you gave that to me, I never had to work for it, I relaxed in it.
Thank you for teaching me that love has no limits, that it’s unconditional and honest.
This is what I will remember Mama.
Thank you for giving me the best memories of all.