Over the weekend, I took the Beats on one last hike at a favorite local wildlife area. The March weather combined with chilly temperatures resulted in the place being fairly deserted, giving us the opportunity to explore.
As part of our hikes at this preserve, the Beats would cap of their exploration with spending some time on a lone set of swings located close to the parking lot. Over the last 2 1/2 years, they've gone from toddling to the baby seats, begging to be picked up and placed in, to independently getting themselves situated in the normal swing seats, asking to be pushed higher and higher.
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The March/April transition is a hard time of year for me. 6 years ago, I was in the middle of a second miscarriage, fighting to hang onto hope only to later learn all had been lost. And even though a year later things would change, I would still be reflecting on those last moments of what could have been.
Last night I was reminded of all of this again while dealing with phantom pain at the site of my Caesarean. Pressing down on the scars, I marveled at how grateful I was to even get the experience of carrying the Beats for as long as I did. But I also allowed for the pain of knowing all that was lost due to that journey.
There's so much focus on the firsts in life, from first steps to first kiss to first adventures. But equally important is recognizing the union that exists between those firsts and the lasts. That one cannot exist without the other, despite the fear surrounding closing the doors on certain chapters.
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This week the Beats say good-bye to friends and teachers. The excitement of moving back to the West Coast is being tempered by them having these lasts. Already He-Beat is struggling, lashing out and being extra clingy as he fights to make sense of these emotions. The urge to completely shelter them both from this part of the process is high. And yet, I know that they have to learn to navigate this process, with Grey and me guiding them through this process of happy/sad that comes with transitions.
Being excited for the firsts and all the new while also honoring the lasts.
Oh boy, so much emotion. Flashbacks stop me in my tracks every time. And I still live in my home town.
ReplyDeleteLasts are so hard, I can totally see He-Beat's reactions (they'd probably be mine, too). Moving is hard. Saying goodbye is hard. I teared up with your memories of your miscarriages and your C-section scar pain. So many things wrapped up in the same timeframe. May these lasts lead to many joyous firsts.
ReplyDeleteOh, wow. Lasts always get me, too. Isn't it weird to stand at a playground like that and time travel? It's trippy when you go back, but it's even trippier when you go forward.
ReplyDeleteIt must be so complicated. And bittersweet. Especially if the Beats don't completely understand what's going on. I'm glad that you are honouring your own feelings as well as theirs.
ReplyDeleteI am glad you're taking some time to honour those "lasts." I've found moving to be such an exhausting experience that sometimes those "last" moments slip by before you've recognized them and then it's too late. Hope you took lots of pictures! :)
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