Rachel, wait for us!
Andrew, don't throw sand.
I looked up from my novel, which I began on our arrival at the cottage three days earlier. I had just settled into my lawn chair on the beach when I heard the young couple approaching, two kids and a ton of stuff in tow.
I guessed they were in their early thirties, their children probably two and four, the same age difference as my own son and daughter now nineteen and twenty-one.
They settled on a blanket a few yards from us, and began the ritual. She tried to hold on to the children and apply sunscreen as he arranged chairs and umbrellas and unpacked baskets. Out came a wide array of brightly coloured towels, pails and shovels, the once quiet air suddenly filled with squeals of delight as the kids ran to the waters edge and back again.
It seemed like yesterday I was there with my own children, chasing seagulls, building castles and wiping sand from their eyes. I loved every minute of it.
Everyone has a favourite time in their life, and I would have to say mine were those first incredible years of my children's lives. I watched in amazement as they smiled their first smile, spoke their first word and took their first steps. Each day felt like a gift as I watched their unique personalities unfold.
Being a mother had come naturally to me. I felt in my heart it was what I was meant to do, it's what I was good at. Motherhood is a never-ending job, however these days, with our children fresh home from university I was becoming increasingly aware of how little they relied on me.
I glanced over at the young mother who was scolding her daughter for splashing. Our eyes met and I gave her a knowing smile, as if to say, Been there, done that. She looked tired and a little frazzled. I wanted to tell her to enjoy every minute, because this phase of her life would pass all too quickly, but like every parent, she would find out on her own.
I turned back to my novel, glancing first at my husband who was dozing off on the beach blanket next to me. I smiled. Several careers, a mortgage and two children later, we had certainly come through many 'phases' in our life.
Newly married twenty-four years ago, nothing but time for ourselves and each other, things changed quickly with the arrival of our children. And then, just when I thought the dirty diapers and spit up milk would never end I was holding back tears as I dropped them off at nursery school. Years of slumber parties, piano recitals and sporting events came and went, traded for girlfriends and boyfriends, part-time jobs, and arguments over who got the car. There were great achievements and heartbreaks, laughs and tears and then suddenly, they were gone, university bound with their lives ahead of them.
And here we were alone on the beach, in the latest 'phase' of our life, that of 'Empty Nesters'.
I set my novel aside and lay down next to my husband on the beach blanket. I caught a glimpse of the young couple looking our way. I wondered what, if anything, they thought of us. Did our life look easy to them?
I remember being their age, looking at couples our age now, wondering if we would make it that far, thinking they seemed to have everything under control. It was the way I looked at a couple on the beach the day before, twenty years older than us, gray and wrinkled, but seemingly wiser, so much wiser. They had done it. They came through careers, raising a family, retirement, grandchildren and more. They survived the ever- changing phases in their lives and landed here, walking hand in hand on the beach.
Would we make it that far? Would we ever feel like we were 'in control'? What were all those years of swim meets, birthday parties, parent-teacher meetings all about? And what did the future hold for us?
I quickly shook it off and walked to the water. As much as I loved the years I spent raising a family, I've never been one to dwell on the past (I don't like looking at old photographs). And as much as I wonder at times, what the future holds, I don't like to plan too far ahead (things can change in a heartbeat). I prefer to live in the moment.
Mommy, watch me!
Daddy, come in the water!
The young couple got up from their blanket to join their children.
I took a breath and dove into the cool, calm water. I surfaced, sun on my face and realized, 'I'm happy where I am'.
I should know who I am by now, but I don't. I should know where I'm going, but have no idea. Maybe that's what this next phase in my life will be about.
A time to rediscover myself, who I was before I was a wife and mother, and maybe even a time to rediscover the man, burning to a crisp, still sound asleep on the beach