Time travel

Yesterday I found myself sitting next to my lanky 14 year old son at the radiologist while he filled out a medical form. "Mum, what's my Medicare number? And who do I put as my next of kin?"

His right pinkie had taken a serious hit during a volleyball game yesterday at school. The joint was all swollen and bruised, so the doctor advised an X-ray to check for a possible fracture.

The radiologist called us in. She was a sweet Japanese woman slightly older than me. As she adjusted the equipment, she recognised Nathan's school uniform and remarked that her son used to attend the same school.

"He's at university now studying Electrical Engineering", she said proudly.

Afterwards as we headed out of the radiologist clinic, a little boy scurried past us on the stairwell, his mum behind calling out for him to slow down.

I felt a wave of nostalgia as I saw myself sandwiched between the images of these two mothers.

For a moment I was transported into that same scene... a little Nathan bounding up and down the stairs, with me shadowing him protectively.

And earlier I had caught a glimpse of a possible future scene... an older version of me talking proudly about my grown-up son to another younger mum.

Throughout the day, I found myself travelling backwards and forwards in time.

Young parents with their little children out and about for Halloween trick-or-treat.

An L-plater vehicle in front of me signalling and slowing down carefully at the intersection up ahead.

A glowing young couple behind me at the waiting room of the radiologist clinic, the expectant mum resting her palm on her slightly rounded belly.

I was, am, and will be every one of these women, and they me.

I came across a quote the other day that said by the time our children turn 18, we would have already spent 90% of our in-person time with them.

We get...

1 year with a baby

3 years with a toddler

5 years with an early school-aged child

3 years with a preteen

5 years with a teen

And that's it.

Each season shorter than it feels.

Each stage gone before we're ready.