I love you as we grow together.
Of course you’re growing up while I’m just growing older.
So when do we officially finish growing up? Some say it’s when you literally stop growing upwards. Being given the key to the door at
18 symbolizes the right of passage to adulthood. For some being a ‘grown up’ means being able to take care of yourself. Others think of grown ups as having a home, job and responsiblity to others.
Yes, I think I can tick all those boxes so all that’s left is to grow older. I refuse to use the term ‘old’. How do we define old anyway? Grey hair? Wrinkles? Bifocals? Walking frame? Chronologically I’m about to reach the start of ‘middle age’. I’m a well established plant in this garden of love.
I like to think of us as growing together. Of course we’re at different stages of our lives and you can’t possibly relate to where I am. I can relate to you though. I’ve been a child without a care in the world. Except, maybe, for wondering what exciting things we’re going to do that week, what’s for dinner and who I was going to play with on the playground.
We try not to burden you with the issues that face adults in our daily lives. We do our best for both of you and hope that when time dictates that it’s your turn you’ll be prepared. I grew you from a seed, we water you regularly, feed you all the nutrients you require, tend to your daily needs, talk with you often, watch over you with patience and pride and most importantly love you every single day.
My little seedlings seem to grow before my very eyes. Measuring them regularly on a growth chart proves my theory. They grow out of shoes and clothes at a rate of knots but I wish for it to be a little longer before they grow out of saying,’ I love you, Mum’.
Keep growing my sprouts! My love for you continues to grow as do I.
Image from: here.