Ah, Youth

You know, sometimes you see pictures of yourself and you see those limbs that used to bend and flex so loosely, the same limbs you see on your own children now and you wonder that your own body could have ever been that free, that open.




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And then you wake up every morning feeling like you have a slight hangover and your feet hit the earth and you cry out a little in pain as you hobble to the bathroom, gently stretching out the low back that twinges as you bend.



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You keep going to those gym classes, the ones with the pulsing beat music as your light weights change from 3.5# to 5# then 7.5# and you feel stronger and powerful. But still a little thick.


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You decide that the number doesn't really matter, the 5 that will follow the 3...feel silly and indulgent. Then you look at those pictures again, on the same cul-de-sac that your children now play. And know that their loose supple limbs rest in the very same room your tiny ones once did. And sometimes you still rest there too but those limbs now cramp or go to sleep when they are flung over your head in sleep.






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You wonder about the way photos capture the wonder of youth... the easy way the knees locked without pain, the swing swung without fear of jumping and the thud of the feet.




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And you joke with your parents over coffee that someday, not too far from this moment, your children may be driving their Omi and Opa around because they cannot. Or maybe even driving me.


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