My husband said, “I’m sad.”
We were eating dinner, reflecting on our oldest son’s upcoming college graduation. His words hit me harder than I expected.
It felt like a movie series. A reel, fast-forwarding through time, as he recapped riding bikes with our boys and showing them where their elementary school would be. Then came the move to a new town, and the adjustments to new elementary schools a few years later. On he went with the memories—racing home from work, shuttling between soccer, baseball, basketball practices and games.
His mind is like a terabyte—or whatever the biggest storage device is these days.
Mine? Photos—and him reminding me of the stories I’ve forgotten.
A constant reminder that I still haven’t transferred the billion photos I have of our early years from camera disks, before iPhones were a thing, to something more accessible.
A reminder that time is marching on.
It is especially a reminder of the tiny humans we raised, and how we've marveled at their accomplishments, big and small.
It’s all bittersweet.
There’s a song by Big Head Todd and the Monsters with that name. Bittersweet.
A fun band that originated in Boulder, CO, during my own college years, just a beat or two ago...
The song’s chorus plays on repeat in my mind:
It’s bittersweet, more sweet than bitter,
Bitter than sweet.
It’s a bittersweet surrender.
(Click here to listen 🎶)
