Past experience had taught me that people and places can change remarkably in a short time. I had been away for three months so expected growth. Mike warned me. Nevertheless, I was shocked at the height of the oleanders bordering our property. The lively family behind us are all but invisible. Only the sounds of laughter and the cries of the baby evidence the large family which occupies the home.
Across the lot, the tall mesquite tree dubbed the tree of calmness that had provided shade in a side yard was gone, the victim of age and weather. Photos did not prepare me for the gaping yard begging for a she-shed.
Mike’s warning, though, was to prepare me for the boys. Sure enough. The eyes which met me straight on a few months ago are now a few inches north. My arms go around their chests when I hug them. Happily for me, Blue Boy reciprocated my embrace with a full-on greeting on my return, not the passive head lean of months previous. Mowgli also gave me an active hug. Then I noticed his long pants.
Mowgli’s spindly but sturdy legs were maturing into what ED calls “man legs” even before I left three months ago. Other than pajama pants or slacks for semi-formal events, Mowgli always opted for shorts. They were often the only item of clothing on his body when he returned from school, discarding the other items across the yard on his way to the house. Not any more: long jeans cover his well-developed appendages.
Relativity of time. When in presence of change, it appears to happen slowly. From a distance, it is immediate. How blessed I am to witness the maturation of the boys daily. But occasional distancing jolts me to appreciate it.
