When you feel your child is growing up.
I’m sure that moment
is different for everyone.
The day she took her first steps.
The day she called me “Mom” for the first time. The day I watched her grow smaller and smaller
, carrying a schoolbag that was half her height .
I, too, have scenes that are etched in my memory
from various milestones in my life .
But I have almost no
memories of when my children were babies
.
Because I was so desperate to get through each
day safely that I didn’t have
the time to slowly appreciate it.
Instead,
what I remember is,
Days when I cried with a child because I didn’t know why they were crying . Days when I waited patiently
for a stomping child to calm down,
feeling the disapproving looks of others. Days
when the parking lot right there
felt like an eternity away.
The day I was scrambling up to a high place and
had to frantically move a lot of things around.
The day I struggled to avoid being late , as the clothes I had dressed him in were repeatedly taken off .
One day , the endless repetition of “Look, look!”
was endearing, but it made me want to roll my eyes because I couldn’t get any housework done
.
It’s a continuous stream of difficult memories filled with “Why?! How?!” moments that I didn’t know about until I gave birth to such a child .
I’m so busy every day that, to be honest, I don’t clearly remember what
my child
was like or
what expression they had on their face at that time.
But
amidst all that, there’s
one
thing I remember vividly.
It happened when
I had just finished work,
my body completely exhausted, and I
was somehow managing to unlock the front door while carrying my child and our belongings.
I
felt like something was gripping my back tightly.
“Huh? What? Whose hand is that?”
Surprised,
I cautiously checked, and
there it was
—my tiny child’s
tiny hand.
I was even more surprised when I saw that.
I didn’t realize it because it was my first child, but
apparently my child
was what you’d call a “difficult child to raise.”
Even when I held her, she
never calmed down easily; she
would cry and scream, arch her back, and
almost fall out of my arms—that was the usual routine.
Her cries were so loud that they were said to be the loudest at the maternity hospital, and every day
, whether I was holding her or
putting her in the car seat,
felt like a battle.
And now, that same child is
holding onto me tightly,
gripping my back with all their might.
The feeling I experienced for the first time,
the sensation of those tiny hands,
made my heart explode with affection.
At that time, I
was stopped by the nursery school teachers almost every day, and
I spent my days apologizing and worrying about my child.
To one teacher,
“Many people would give up on them, but
you’re really facing the situation head-on.”
“Mom, you’re doing a great job.”
I’ve been told that before.
Back then, I was completely overwhelmed by being a first-time mother
.
Those tiny hands
gave me an incredible amount of power.
“It’s okay. You’re not alone.”
I exist because of this child .
Those days I thought I was working hard on my own were
actually days I was working hard together with this child .
Now, about ten years have passed since then.
Looking back, I can barely remember how those days
went by; they really did fly by.
Time flies by so quickly, and
before you
know it, they’ve grown up.
But the other day, something happened that
made me realize my child’s growth all over again .
It happened when I was preparing dinner and
dropped a plate ,
cutting my finger.
My son immediately came running and,
without hesitation, said this:
“I’ll do it today.”
My son usually loves video games and YouTube, and he can’t easily stop
even when I tell him to , and his catchphrase is “Later.”
That same son, who,
in my time of need
, quickly
stepped in to help. He
bravely tackled washing dishes for the first time, diligently washing them
with his clumsy hands .
I was deeply moved by what I saw .
My son was the source of most of my worries at the time
. Those little hands that gripped my back tightly
that day and wouldn’t let go .
Before I knew it,
those hands had become incredibly kind and reliable hands, full of
consideration for others .
When you spend every day with your child , it can be surprisingly difficult to notice
their growth .
When you’re busy every day ,
the days really
do fly by in the blink of an eye.
Furthermore,
humans are creatures who, unless they consciously make an effort,
tend to focus
on what they can’t do or what causes trouble .
But I believe that
children grow, both mentally and physically, little by little each day
, even if it’s slowly .
That’s why I want
to grab onto the tail of each day,
consciously find the good in things, and
spend each day with a smile.
Having children
allowed me to become a parent.
Because we are both still immature,
instead of worrying only about the past or the future, and
instead of focusing only on what we can’t do, I want to
enjoy the present, notice
the small daily improvements and happiness, and grow together with my child .
That tiny hand that grasped my back that day —that hand is
still a treasure to me,
supporting my heart and
pushing me forward .