“Who knows where the time goes?” I awoke at dawn today with that bittersweet Judy Collins song swimming through my head. I pad down the hallway towards the kitchen to make my coffee, pausing at our daughter’s room to let her meowing foster kitten out. I get the coffee brewing and the kitty fed then settle down to breathe in a new day. I take in the view from the kitchen window, it’s all but consumed by a riot of bean, cucumber and tomato plants; all of them heavy with the fruit of our springtime labor. A flock of tiny bushtits peck away at the suet feeder. Our cat Ella patrols the garden on her morning rounds. It’s not too different from any other morning so far this summer except for one thing. Today is the first day of senior year for our two children. 

Neither of the twins had any trouble rousting themselves this morning. Normally, getting either one of our 17 year olds out of bed is like waking a bear from hibernation. They emerge from their respective dens and reluctantly pose for the requisite first day of school photo. This is a tradition that Carol and I have carried on since the kids began preschool. Both have that  “C’mon mom and dad” look on their faces as we snap away.

I marvel at how much they’ve grown and how cool they both look in their back to school garb. Sam has sprouted up this summer and stands at 5’ 8”, two inches taller than Carol. The standard skateboarders watchman’s cap is pressed down on his head, long brown hair spills out the sides and touches his shoulders. Sam’s electric blue eyes sparkle like the mountain sky. The front of his pink hoodie sports a retro drawing of an 80’s style boom box. Long, baggy thrift store jeans and skate shoes complete the outfit.

Denali’s body hasn’t changed a whole lot this summer. She’s still whippet thin with long legs that helped her become a standout this year in the triple jump. Her Pippi Longstocking red braids sit behind her back and fall past her waist. She has never had a hair cut. I have yet to find the right words to describe her hazel eyes. She’s wearing a green, long sleeve shirt with a picture of Bob Marley and the words “56 Hope Road” on the breast pocket. She’s opted for a pink little kid backpack to haul her things in.

And just like that, they are out the door. No need to drive them to school, they each have their own car and can drive themselves. For a few minutes Carol and I just sit there in silence, letting the gravity of this moment sink in. As our kids grow, people keep telling us to enjoy each moment, each milestone because “It happens fast.” I’m not sure if that’s necessarily true. Yes, it is hard to believe that this is our kids’ last year of school before heading off to college. Yes there are times when it seems like only yesterday when we were dropping them off at the door of their first preschool. However, I don’t really feel like it “happened fast” because Carol and I have been so present with our children throughout every step of their development so far. Relishing every precious day of Sam and Denali’s first 17 years has made time feel not like it has passed in the blink of an eye but rather like a lazy river flowing. Realizing the beauty of each moment with them has in essence helped to actually slow time down.

As I watch them drive away, scenes from our kids’ lives swirl through my mind. From diapers and sleepless nights to their first steps, first time on a bicycle, first solo trip in a car. Fevers and frantic trips to the ER. Soccer games in the park to soccer under the lights on the varsity field. Trick or treating, Easter egg hunts, photos on Santa’s lap. Swim lessons at the pool to surfing on Maui.

On this August morning my heart is full to bursting. I swell with pride over the many wonderful things our kids have accomplished thus far in their short lives. The moment is bittersweet though and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t feeling some sadness and a sense of loss. However, I remind myself that this is not an ending for the twins but rather just another stop for them on the wheel of life.

The secret ‘o life is enjoying the passage of time

James Taylor