Every year we spend a week at the beach, a ritual that began in diaper days. Over time, the ritual deepened and served as a place to reflect on where we have been and where we are going. Truth is, you never truly know, but gratitude for the time and space is always present in full.
This year, I couldn’t help but notice that we were the old-timers. Parents of men surrounded by young families and children’s games in sun, surf, and sand. A beautiful sight—but also one that stirred memories as well as thoughts of how we got here so fast…
Many years ago, I wrote a piece about such a reflection. Thought it would be time to bring it back…
Yesternight
At a similar point in their budding language skills, both sons uttered the word, “Yesternight.” “Dad, remember yesternight when…” There was something sweet and intuitive in their recollections and no need for the typical adult advice or correction. Yesternight, despite the constant alarm of spellcheck, is and was perfect.
As a father (and, I think, as most adults would have experienced) a sense of “I wish” comes along and brushes the present with a longing for wisdom to have come sooner. Like yesternight instead of today when the past is long gone. You wonder if you did your best, if you could have been there more, been a better, more connected father. But what the clarity of hindsight misses is the effort and desire that comes in the moment and in the space between father and son.
At some point, you realize that the space between has significance and is meant for both of you to grow in its current. We mistake the intensity of feeling, the sympathy, and empathy we have in our fatherly experience for the need to act on that feeling. Our son is in pain, and we should fix it. Our son makes a great play in T-ball, and we puff out our chest. The intense message simply reminds of the singular connection. Unfortunately, without the space in between and with us “fixing it” or taking credit for their triumphs, we don’t let our children fully experience their own life.
It’s a big day when we make the space and nurture this current, this flow between father and son. It’s a triumph of personal development when we notice that the inner circle ripples outward and that our child is also a child in time and of the universe—not just ours. We see the importance of our role in a very different way for now it is wider and deeper, extending in time beyond the brackets of our life here in this form.
When you look back to those moments with the eyes of your present station, the reflection reminds that on some level we retain our innocence and do the best we can. Life is a wonderful teacher—but our children are as well. Their uniqueness along the developmental path helps us to learn humility and an openness to the flow of creation. Nothing to fix, nothing to change. For their innocence constantly asks for nothing more than direction, an alignment with true principles, and a destiny beyond our control.
This is not an excuse to do nothing or to be a spectator. To do so would ignore the pull of the current and the power of its space in between, the influence and responsibility of a most important connection. To be so detached would only create the same “I wish” upstream, an independent son looking back and wondering why his father wasn’t stepping into the stream when he needed him.
The moment is for you, too. Relationships are rich with second chances and opportunities to be what and who you truly want to be. And sometimes those ripples come across generations plowing through culture, traditions, miscommunication, mistakes, and mindless rules. Firsts, seconds, third tries— in the end, it’s all the same. For in some form, just as a child’s intuition, you know we are not perfect, but we experience and cherish those perfect moments.
Looking back with the wisdom of hindsight on our imperfections, we grieve something that we cannot touch but only feel. In the seams between who we were and who we are something is lost, and something is gained like the wrinkle of time where skin once was smooth. But that wrinkle speaks of love, joy, pain, and sorrow, earned in being there, being present.
Looking back across time truly is a human experience. And the greater the expanse the more you notice and the more you catch a glimpse of life’s current. Wondering is in our nature, just as real as “What if” or “I wish.” But truthfully, in that moment you wonder about, you couldn’t have done any better than you did. Not yesternight or yesteryear.
I don’t recall when the boys stopped saying “yesternight,” but I remember that same feeling of something lost and something gained. In between yesternight and yesterday, they had changed. The bittersweet feeling of children growing up. Once they leaped, they never looked back. Though I waited with an intent ear, yesternight was gone. A breath, a sigh, and then back in the stream where the who they had become waited.
photo credit: J.Panepinto
