Every time I see my Nan, she says the same thing to me about my children – “They’re growing away from you from the day they’re born”. Partly in reference to how independent they are, but I think the nostalgia factor is playing the main part. It’s true. Every day they fight against something when I try to help them. Whether it’s putting words in Flo’s mouth when trying to guess what she’s trying to say (I get a firm “No.” and a repeat of what it is she’s trying to get across) or holding Roo’s hand when he’s walking, the feeling that I am unwanted in those particular departments is growing stronger with each passing minute.
I constantly have to remind myself that Florence only needs gentle guidance. I see so much of me reflecting in her from day to day. The way she tries to make people laugh to gain their attention and affection; her interest in wildlife and care for everything she touches; her workings out of her family tree and wanting to know how she’s linked to people, even the small age of Big Three.
But I need to snap myself out of that. You see, she is me and so much more. She is her friends, her brother, her family. She is the kindness of her Grandma, the feistiness of her Aunt and the sass of her cousin. She is Elsa, Moana and Merida, but equally, she is Aladdin and Hercules and Buzz. She is Dolly, Bruce, Regina, Simon & Garfunkel, she is every song that ever was that she has tried to sing along to. She is me and so much more; she is double the DNA, triple the threat and a million times better than I’ll ever be. I can pass on my knowledge and she’ll add to it – that’s the way it works, right? That’s the way it should work. That’s the way I want it to work. She’ll figure out how it works before I do.
She is me and so much more. I need to bring it home and stick with it. The guidance is there but I’m learning not to be as offended when it’s skipped over. A skip is a walk with a bounce in it. Bounce your way from A to B and it’s a pretty fun journey. Right?