Their Wellbeing Still Matters To Me

PostScript:

Separation had an odd way of showing me things that were right in front of my all long, thus teaching me what I now regret:

If I could rewind time, one of the first things I’d change is my home office. It was the perfect room to become Aidan’s Lego room, yet I held onto it because I thought I needed my own space. Looking back now, I’d much rather have stepped over Lego bricks every day than protected four walls that are now just a memory.

I’d also leave the office door open. Far too often I’d close it, put on my headphones and disappear into my own world. I wasn’t trying to shut my family out. I genuinely thought I was being productive. I just didn’t realise that every closed door quietly says, “Not now.” Children hear that message even when you never intended to send it.

I’d also try a little harder to stay awake. After years of working full-time, I’d often come home exhausted and fall asleep in the chair. I told myself I was providing for my family, and I was. But I was also missing moments that money could never replace.

These days, I don’t have an office to hide in. I don’t have a lounge chair to collapse into after work. What I do have are afternoons filled with Lego builds, clay monsters, conversations, laughter and the privilege of simply being present.

It turns out the moments I miss most are also the ones I’m determined not to miss again.

Pages: 1 2