Elderflowers and Rosebuds

From the elders to you – the parents now. What we want you to know about the little ones standing shyly at your knees….

Please get us together and party. We simply can’t get enough of their company.

We watch in fascination as our genetics and smiles pass down the generations, cleverly packaged in sweet smelling skin, sparkling eyes, and fresh views.

It’s like pushing the “do over” button but we no longer feel the need to do it ourselves. Life has been crazy and we’re tired, but these little ones are so ready to go after it.

You parents are encouraging them to reach for the stars. We love that. We hope to be stars, ourselves, at some point.

Reach for us, little ones.

The littles are so innocent. We know it can’t last. But maybe, just maybe, you can let them have a childhood for just a bit longer? Once childhood is behind you, there’s no going back to this place of wonder and fearlessness and trust. We know. We tried.

Thank you for putting our mistakes behind us. You and I may have quite different views on a great many things that I used to think were very important. Now, not so much. The older I get, the fewer things are worth being dogmatic about. It will happen to you soon enough. And you will discover that the simple, beautiful, and playful parts of life are profoundly fulfilling.

And I want to share those moments with the littles.

I know there are doubts and worries in your head. I know because I went through them in my turn. You visit in the hospitals and convalescent homes and my own home and worry non-stop over germs and food and medicines and random oxygen lines that could find their way into your little’s mouth. You wonder what that smell is and whether the cleaning lady is up on my laundry and if you will make it home in time for the little’s nap.

You hold them, wriggling in your arms like the fish they are, and bribe them to stay five more minutes so I can drink them in with my eyes and soak up their babbling with my ears. And when you bring them close for a kiss or a cuddle or even a handshake, my world lights up like Christmas.

Will I still be here for Christmas?

Will this little one take in that wonder as much as I take in this one?

I do not need entertaining.

It is powerful and satisfying when this little one sits in my company and simply exists.

Many people love me, and they show it with flowers and treats and visits full of cheer.

But you.

You brought life into the room when you brought the littles to see me.

You brought my reminder that today is lovely and tomorrow is hopeful, regardless of the details.

Thank you.