I only went in to turn and vacuum the mattress. It seemed like a useful thing to do during my enforced holiday from the world of woodlands. On every available surface in the room was the ephemera of childhood. Tractors of every make, size and colour, implements to match. Books, magazines, drawings. The games, both favourite and unplayed were piled on shelves. Keepsakes and treasures, dust covered and seemingly forgotten. The soft toys still piled on the bed looked forlorn and lonely. Over this was spread the occasional newer item. A climbing magazine, a pair of hiking socks, the tag from his new tent. A stick of deodorant, a photograph of a bunch of friends at school, all wearing ties and smart jackets. A single shin pad, a pack of new mackerel lures and a used iTunes card lay on the carpet.
I sat down on the bed and looked at the scene, feeling
despair at the passing of a childhood, a sadness at this small death. As I
looked though, something changed in me. He was my little boy and always will
be, now he’s my big boy and he’ll always be that too. We must embrace the
change we see in our children, we must help and guide them on their next steps
on the journey to adulthood, just as we did with those first faltering steps
all those years ago. Now as I look I see hope for the future, bright, engaged,
intelligent hope.
He’ll be home from school in just a few short weeks, his
first year complete and then the page will turn, the next chapter will start
and we will walk into it together.
