The speed of life

Time flies so they say. The flying of time is not something I dwell on too regularly, but there are points in your life when the speed of life is marked out in frightening relief. Right now, for me, is one of those times.

 

It’s back-to-school time and I’m feeling nostalgic and a bit sad. Summer has gone too quickly (and without any sun, but let’s not mention that, it’s too painful) and in a week my eldest is beginning that new adventure of secondary school and my youngest is starting at the local Montessori. It’s a lot of new beginnings for one household.

 

I can clearly remember my first day at playschool, the little tables laid out with puzzles, my cousin crying, clinging to her dad and refusing to stay. First day of secondary school is a slightly more blurry and intimidating memory; lots of stairs to climb, classrooms to find, a confusion of bells ringing.

 

And now it’s nearly September again, decades after those autumn memories, and my children are going to form their own memories of first days and I realise that the summer has sped by without a single swim in the sea.

 

This awareness of time brings with it a moment of clarity. The youngest has an early summer birthday and for a while I’ve been to-ing and fro-ing on when to start her at school. At four years old or five years old? And now I know she will start when she is five.

 

Because why hurry when everything points to that day arriving more than soon enough? I don’t think I want to rush anymore.

 

Daisy Wilson is a freelance writer who lives and works in West Cork. Mum to an almost-teenager and a toddler who is striding through the terrible twos with a glint in her eye, life is noisy, fun and covered in fingerprint marks.

 

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