you at the beginning, you at the end

"but to cradle you the last days was an honour and a miserable feat"

you in everything, gang of youths 

When I lifted you off the floor in the middle of the night, cradling you in my arms as I put you back to bed, I wondered how many times had you lifted me up as a child, cradling me before putting me back to bed. I wondered this again and again, when I made you breakfast, when I bathed you in the basin like a bird, when I dressed you, when I tied your shoes, when I cut your already falling out hair and nails, and when I tended to your wounds. I wondered how many nights you had come and comforted me when I woke alone in the darkness engulfed by it's terrors. I wondered how you found the strength to stand by my side as the quiet unwavering constant in a tumultuous sea of unknowns.

What a terrible and beautiful intimacy when the child becomes the carer. As if something shifts in the cosmos and suddenly you've moved up a level. Whether you think you're capable enough, mature enough, strong enough or not. It doesn't matter. Growing up has arrived, not because you're ready, but because this is the natural order of life. All the things you thought you couldn't or wouldn't, you can and you do. Between the flailing and the fears, the mistakes and the meltdowns, the hidden tears and the sleepless nights, somehow you become capable enough, mature enough, strong enough. And somewhere along the way there comes an unquestionable sense of purpose, a new found patience, compassion and a form of love you never thought possible. Perhaps what new parents feel as they cradle their child for the first time. The rawness and fragility of a new or dying life that breaks you open and forces you into another way of being.

To give care to the caregiver. To know you in that raw and fragile way. And to have you never stop being the parent where it really mattered, where I really needed. You never stopped listening to my stories, my worries, my plans or my dreams, you never stopped guiding me on how to keep living, or reminding me of your love and pride in the way that you looked at me. And when I felt like I was drowning, you would reach our your hand to me as the quiet unwavering constant in that terrifying sea of unknowns. You gave me the opportunity to grow up, to give back, to slow down, and to love with all of my being. And to realise that even if we don’t feel ready or capable or strong enough, that actually we already are everything that we will become, it is within us to be discovered, if we are brave enough to embark upon the path.

And even though so much of our lives was spent at a distance, with so much left unsaid, I'm forever grateful to have been cradled by you at the beginning and to have cradled you at the end.